


Recollections of a Marine

by Lemon (lemon_sprinkles)



Series: Soldier's Heart [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Default Shepard, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Renegon (Mass Effect), Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 16:51:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5135282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemon_sprinkles/pseuds/Lemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Building a life with someone is hard, but Kaidan and Shepard somehow make it work.</p><p>  <b>Now featuring artwork from the amazing Bioticjelly (Chapter 11)</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> These are a series of oneshots set within the 'Soldier's Heart' universe. There is no order or theme to them, save for being set post-war and revolving around Kaidan and Shepard's daily struggles and victories living together as a couple. Also, they will vary in rating.
> 
> Due to their setting within the Soldier's Heart universe there will be some fairly deep themes throughout, such as Shepard's daily struggle with PTSD (that includes discussions of depression, anxiety, and panic attacks). But there will also be a lot of fluff to counter-act this. 
> 
> Enjoy!

 “So… what do you think? Just as nice in person as it was in the photos?”

 Kaidan gripped the handles of the wheelchair a little harder as Shepard stared at the bungalow before them. His hands were shoved in his pockets, hunching his shoulders in an uncharacteristic slouch as he sat in the wheelchair. Kaidan couldn’t see his face—couldn’t read his expression—but knew he was giving it a complete once-over.

 “What’s that?”

 Shepard pointed to the ramp on the stairwell that lead up to the porch.

 “It’s a wheelchair ramp. It’s not permanent, though. Once you’re up and walking again we can take it—”

 Shepard started to move then, hands grabbing the wheels’ rims to push himself up the small sidewalk and to the ramp. Kaidan stayed where he was and watched Shepard do what he needed—or felt—he had to do.

_Don’t fuss; don’t coddle; don’t crowd._

  Thankfully he didn’t struggle, and easily rolled up the ramp. Stopping in front of the door, he approached one of the windows and fiddled with the edge, trying to get it open.

 “It’s locked,” Kaidan said, stepping up after Shepard. “The house is a couple hundred years old, but it’s got all the modern security features.”

 Shepard nodded and turned back around. Kaidan could see his face now. His brows were pulled in tight and lips pursed. He was thinking about something.

 “I like the trees,” he finally said. “I didn’t see them in the photographs.”

 Kaidan smiled and nodded. “Yeah—there are a lot of pines in the area. Smells great in the morning when you’re drinking your coffee out on the back deck.”

 “You do that?” Shepard asked. Kaidan swore he heard a hint of longing in the way he said it; like a child who hadn’t been invited to a birthday party.

 It had been… hard, moving into a new house without Shepard there to break it in with him. But Shepard had made sense when he told Kaidan he couldn’t put his life on hold until he got released from the hospital. As much as Kaidan liked the idea of being a bit of a wanderer for a couple of months, he knew he needed to settle down so that when Shepard was released, he had a place to come back to.

 “Yeah… tomorrow we can do it together?” he suggested, unlocking the door and opening it for Shepard.

 Shepard nodded and went into the house, Kaidan once again stepping back to allow him the chance to navigate the space himself. As much as it pained him to watch Shepard to have to use the wheelchair, he knew it would be a constant in their life for the next few months.

 He spent some time in the entrance way giving the door a close inspection, then went straight for the living room. Once again this was done entirely silent, save for the gentle roll of the wheels against the hardwood floors. Kaidan had kept the place rug free, despite how the floors chilled his toes in the morning. Anything to make it easier for Shepard.

 “I didn’t decorate too much,” Kaidan said as Shepard looked around the room. A couch, a sitting chair, and a coffee table were the only big ticket items in the room. A few lamps and a throw blanket added some colour to the space, but for the most part it was simple.

They’d never discussed what kind of interior decorating they liked, so Kaidan just went with whatever he could find after the Reapers destroyed all the Ikeas in the area.

 Rolling up to the side table, Shepard picked up a picture frame. “Where’d you get this?”

 Kaidan saddled up next to Shepard and looked down at the photo. It was a picture of the two of them, taken by some Alliance paid photographer during a ceremony shortly after the Battle of the Citadel. They were just chatting in their dress blues, Shepard holding on to a delicate champagne flute awkwardly, unaccustomed to the pomp and circumstance.

 They were discussing the hors d’oeuvre. Well, more like Shepard was complaining about their size under his breath while Kaidan tried not to laugh.

 It was a good photo.

 “I saw it years ago in one of the emails the Alliance sent us about the event. I uh… well, I contacted the photographer after you… well after you died. I wanted a reminder, I guess.”

 Shepard nodded. Reaching out, he touched the photo gently, scarred fingertips pressing against the glass overtop Kaidan’s chest. “I remember that day. I kept talking about appetizers so I didn’t blurt out how attractive I thought you looked in your dress blues.”

 Kaidan chuckled, and he felt warmth spread across his cheeks. “Is that why you kept talking about food? I just thought you were insanely hungry or something.”

 Shepard shrugged and put the photo back, this time with it facing outward toward them.

 “Did you want to see the kitchen?” Kaidan asked. Shepard was relaxing, and Kaidan felt himself unwind a little. This was going better than he’d expected. A part of him thought maybe Shepard would be upset about the house; that he would have regretted allowing Kaidan to pick it. Then there was the deep, dark, ugly part of him that thought maybe Shepard would have regretted the idea to live together entirely.

 There was still one more test, however…

 “Where’s the bedroom?”

 Kaidan realized that Shepard’s slouch wasn’t because he was relaxed. He was exhausted. The medication he was on made him tired on the best of days, but the drive from the hospital to their house probably sapped away what little energy he had left. His doctors had told Kaidan he’d had another long bout of insomnia (despite the cocktail of drugs he was on), and was due to fall asleep soon, his body finally succumbing to the pressures it was under.

 Taking the handles of the chair, Kaidan wheeled Shepard down the hallway and past the kitchen, straight to the bedroom at the end of the hallway.

 He’d forgotten to make the bed in his haste to get to the hospital. The blankets were rumpled on top, his pillow smooshed into an awkward ball, the indent of his head still obvious. The closet was open, and one of the drawers of the dresser had a lone sock hanging out of it, a rare display of messiness from an otherwise perfectly ordered and clean marine. Shepard didn’t seem to mind. Rather a small smile spread across his lips as he looked around the room.

 Kaidan had put pictures up on the walls in here—one of his mother, two of his parents together, and a few Normandy crew members. In the center of the wall was the photo Liara’s drone had taken during their brief but exciting shore leave on the Citadel. Kaidan would be lying if his heart didn’t clench every time he saw how happy Shepard looked in that photo.

 He turned to see Shepard had rolled himself over to the bathroom.

 And the scowl was back.

 “What’s that?”

 Kaidan didn’t have to look at where Shepard was pointing to know what he was upset about.

 “I thought it’d help,” he said

 Shepard looked over at him, jaw clenched tight. “I don’t need it, Kaidan. I don’t… I don’t need handlebars to take a fucking shit.”

 Kaidan breathed evenly through his nose. He knew this was going to be an issue. He had prepared for this inevitable confrontation, and yet it didn’t make it any easier.

 How do you help your partner without insulting their agency?

 “You never had a problem with it at the hospital. It’s just there until you can walk again.”

 “That was at the hospital,” he said. Turning around, he shoved his hands back in his hoodies pockets and glowered at the bed. “This is… this is _our_ house. I don’t want reminders of… fuck, I just don’t want it.”

 Kaidan sat down on the edge of the bed and rested his hands between his legs. “Then what do you want? The indignity of falling into the toilet if you slip?”

 Shepard looked at Kaidan, eyes like flint. “What?”

 Kaidan shrugged and swallowed back the annoyance. “Because that’s what’s going to happen. Don’t be… don’t be prideful. Not here, John. Not in our space. It’s just you and me—you don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

 Shepard looked back down at the bed, jaw working back and forth as he bounced his good leg up and down quickly. Finally, “As soon as I can walk it’s gone.”

 “Deal.”

 He held his hand out and Shepard took it in a firm shake.

 That had been easier than expected. It was probably the painkillers.

 This was supposed to be a happy occasion—free from conflict and terrible reminders. But how could they get away from the reality of their situation? Shepard was in a wheelchair, coming to a house they’d bought together via extranet, after spending six months in the intensive care unit of a hospital. He was a mess, physically and psychologically, and still had multiple surgeries to undergo, physio-therapy sessions to attend, and a future to plan for.

 It hurt to watch and he couldn’t imagine what it felt like to be the one in Shepard’s position. The frustration and irritation were understandable. And yet Kaidan had to swallow down the bitter taste of disappointment as he watched the man he loved more than anything else, struggle with things that should have been happy moments in their shared life—moments they looked back on fondly.

  Kaidan desperately clung to the reminder from his doctors that things _would_ improve. Shepard would walk again, the surgeries would stop, and the two of them could start to move on—together. 

 “Which side of the bed do you sleep on?” Shepard asked, clearing his throat, obviously intent on changing the topic.

 “This side,” Kaidan replied, patting the mattress.

 Shepard nodded and immediately began to position his wheelchair beside the bed. Kaidan stood up and watched Shepard climb onto his side, ever mindful of his leg.

 “Uh… well, if you want this side you can have it?” Kaidan said.

 Shepard grunted before collapsing his head on Kaidan’s pillow, face buried deep into it. He mumbled something but Kaidan didn’t catch it.

 “What did you say?” he asked. Grabbing one of the small throw pillows, Kaidan gently lifted Shepard’s leg and put it under his knee, keeping it propped up and comfortable.

 Lifting his head, Shepard repeated, “I said: I just want to smell you. All I smell is hospital antiseptic.”

 Kaidan smiled as Shepard curled back in around the blankets and pillows, his hoodie hiding away most of his face. Kaidan spent most of their time on the Normandy encroaching on Shepard’s side of the bed. It was high time he had to share his side. Besides, this had been a long time coming.

 It was only three in the afternoon but Kaidan found himself crawling into bed with Shepard, pulling him gently into his arms. Immediately Shepard’s arms were wrapped around his waist, nose pressed against his throat, a deep, shaky sigh rattling his thinner frame. It had been a long time since they could do this. Shepard had been confined to a hospital bed for months, Kaidan relegated to sitting next to him, the two unable to share the bed. He’d climbed up once, but it only lasted for a few minutes before they both voiced their discomfort. From then on Kaidan stayed sat next to Shepard, the most touching they could do amounting to a few hugs, some kisses, and hand holding.

 But now—now they could cuddle. Finally, Kaidan got to hold Shepard in his arms again, after fighting like hell to do so.

 Shepard felt different against him—frail almost, like if Kaidan hugged him too tight he’d snap under the pressure. But that didn’t matter. Having Shepard in their house, lying in their bed, curled up against him, Kaidan felt a sense of calm he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. He felt hopeful; like if Shepard had gotten healthy enough to leave the hospital, maybe, eventually, he’d be as he once was.

 “You’ll have to give me the full tour later,” Shepard said, voice slurry with exhaustion.

 Kaidan hummed and hugged him a little closer. “And we’ll have coffee on the back porch together.”

 “And break in this bed.”

 Chuckling, Kaidan agreed. “Yeah… we’ll do it all.”

 With Shepard here, in his arms, the house Kaidan had bought was beginning to feel a lot like home. Or maybe the cliché saying was true, and home was where the heart truly was.

 

  


	2. Operation: Dick Pic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Kaidan is away on 'business' with the Alliance, Shepard decides to send Kaidan some... photos, to tie him over until he's back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honour of N7 Day, I present to you a bunch of smut, fluff, angst, and gushy gross cuddles. Set pre-Soldier's Heart. Hope you enjoy!

_“I’ll be gone for a while so…”_

_“Yeah...”_

_“You could, uh, call me. We could video chat and… yeah.”_

_“Yeah… Wait, aren’t you sharing a room with another officer?”_

_“Yeah, I guess I will be… still. There are other ways to see your face.”_

_“And my dick.”_

_“… Well, yeah, that’s what I was hinting at.”_

 Shepard stood in front of the full length mirror in the bedroom wearing nothing but a tight, dark red jockstrap, and a rather impressive scowl on his face. Turning around, he craned his head over his shoulder to get a look at his ass as the black banding wrapped up and under each cheek, holding everything in place. He’d worn jockstraps before, but it was never to be _sexy_. It had always been to keep everything in place as he charged from one end of the battle field to the other.

 They were practical. And comfortable. 

 And, according to the young asari at the store he’d purchased them from, very sexy.

 Shepard could see the appeal, and the thought of Kaidan in one sent his mind whirling, but wearing one himself for the purposes of being hot?

 Shepard didn’t do sexy—at least, not on purpose. Tali had once remarked, in one of her more loose-lipped drinking sessions, that he was just ‘naturally’ sexy. That he didn’t even have to try to be attractive, just that he _was_. Garrus jumped into the conversation with his own embarrassing comments, a mocking tone to his voice as he cooed about how hot it was when Shepard did things like sit and eat and stand.

 Shepard. Didn’t. Do. Sexy.

 But when your partner went away for a week and asked for pictures…

 Well, Shepard had never been very good at denying Kaidan anything.

 Turning back around, Shepard sat on the edge of the bed and massaged his knee, still staring at himself critically in the mirror.

 “Think, Shepard… what would Kaidan like…” he said to himself, then immediately rolled his eyes.

 He’d just have to bite the bullet and take a few photos—go with what felt natural and not try too hard. Opening up his omni-tool, he minimized it so it didn’t take up his arm and opened up the camera application. Easing off of the bed with a grunt, he limped closer to the mirror and stood as naturally as he could before snapping a photo.

 Immediately he looked at it.

 His eyes were closed.

 “Damnit.”

 Posing again, he took a few more photos. Skimming through them he deleted them in quick succession. Too boring; eyes closed; eyes half closed; forced smile; no smile; awkward pose; bad angle…

 Shepard must have spent a good ten minutes in front of the mirror, trying his hardest to get at least one flattering photo but failing every time.

 Groaning, he collapsed on the bed dramatically, a petulant pout on his lips as he stared up at the ceiling. Maybe if he took a shot of his ass. Just his ass. A close-up—no wait, never mind. No one wanted an ass close-up, not even Kaidan.

 Turning his head he looked at the mirror and noted the position of his body—torso stretched out and his good leg propped up. Turning his hips slightly, he positioned himself so that the outline of his dick was noticeable. Maybe like this…

 He took a shot and pulled it up on his camera. The body looked good, actually, if not a bit romance novel cover. His face, though…

_‘It’s my face,’_ he thought. _‘I look like I’m going to kill Kaidan, not fuck him.’_

He could crop his face out. That wouldn’t be weird, would it? Send him just a body shot?

 Getting up he approached the mirror and snapped a photo of his just stomach and groin area, pleased with how his abs were slowly coming back after months in a hospital bed. That photo wasn’t too bad, either. It wasn’t like Kaidan was going to use this for anything but getting off hastily, right? He took a few more before grabbing a separate camera and setting it up on a tripod.

 Go big or go home, right?

 Climbing on to the bed, back to the mirror and legs spread, he craned his neck around to get a look at his ass in the mirror. His knee ached in that position but he ignored it, taking a few shots, trying to show off his ass in the ridiculously expensive underwear.

 Sitting back down he scrolled through them, deciding that there were at least three he could send. Maybe four, if Kaidan didn’t mind a stray sock in the background wrecking the sultry mood of the bedroom.

 But Kaidan didn’t want to be teased, right?

 “I gotta send him a picture of my dick,” Shepard said aloud.

 Pulling the band of the jockstrap up, Shepard took a picture of his dick and balls nestled tightly within the pouch. Looking at the photo, he pulled a face. His dick didn’t look like that, did it? He knew people could sometimes look different in photographs but your dick? Really?

 Not that it was unpleasant but… it was weird. What made it even weirder was a side by side comparison. It wasn’t until now that Shepard realized how bizarre this all must have looked. Coughing into his hand, he rubbed the back of his neck and pondered getting himself hard for the photos.

 Would that be weird, too? Flaccid dicks weren’t the most attractive thing around…

 ‘ _Stop overthinking a dick pic,’_ he thought, then immediately pulled the waistband of his underpants up and off, freeing his prick. Hooking the band under his balls he took a photo that way, lifting his hips and angling the camera so it got most of his stomach, thighs, and, of course, his dick.

 ‘ _This isn’t weird_ ,’ he kept telling himself as he took a few more photos _. ‘Guys take pictures of their cocks all the time and send them to their partners. And getting off in front of a camera is a career for some people.’_

_‘I could always get into porn after this. Commander Shepard in: Attack of the Giant Space-faring Dildos.’_

 He started to laugh.

 Now that he thought about it, the Geth dreadnaughts did have a weird shape to them…

 Pulling his underpants all the way off, he sat back and began to work himself slowly, getting his cock hard. With the camera momentarily abandoned he used his free hand to fondle his balls, pulling them down before rolling them against his palm. Biting his bottom lip, he thought about what Kaidan would be doing with the photos—imagined his hand shoved down his pants and between his thighs, cheeks flushed as he quickly worked himself over, soft pants slipping past his lips.

 Maybe his perfectly coifed hair would become a little disheveled, a stray curl coming down to rest on his forehead as he got off on the images. He could see Kaidan undoing his belt and pulling his pants down halfway to free his cock, the head glistening with precum while his heavy balls tucked in tight. Kaidan teased himself—Shepard knew this—and he pictured the way his fingers would rub his frenulum before going up to the slit, pressing down gently on the red head.

 And that gorgeous ass of his would flex as he humped into his hand, eyes glued to the photo of Shepard doing the same, his hand working up and down his hard shaft and—

 Shepard’s eyes flew open, his hand stopping at the base of his prick.

 That fantasy had gotten way more involved than he expected. Calming himself, Shepard took a steadying breath and looked down his body. His cock was incredibly hard as it bounced with the beat of his heart. Precum had collected at the top, making the head shiny as he pulled back the foreskin. Being very careful to not get too carried away, Shepard continued to stroke with one hand and take photos with the other, breathing heavy and hand a bit shaky.

 He’d stopped thinking about what he was doing—how he was taking ‘sexy’ photos to send to Kaidan—and instead focused on how good it felt. Hopefully Kaidan would enjoy the photos, and if he didn’t? Well, Shepard certainly had fun taking them.

 Eventually, that was.

 It didn’t take long for Shepard to reach the point of no return. Keeping the camera steady, he hoped he could get a few shots of his orgasm as it happened, but failed when his hips bucked just at the exact moment the first ribbon of cum spilt out, the camera taking a photo of the ceiling.

 Riding out his orgasm, he closed his eyes and thought of Kaidan finishing himself off—the little moans he’d make as he tried to be quiet, lips parted and throat stretched.

 Lying back on the bed limp as a fish, Shepard stared up at the ceiling, his chest heaving. The rush of afterglow didn’t last long without Kaidan there to keep it going, with his breathless kisses and content hums. He was suddenly reminded of why he was doing this. Kaidan wasn’t there with him.

 This was the longest they’d been without one another for a very, very long time.

Getting up, he cleaned himself off in the bathroom before returning to the empty room, the covers on the bed mussed up on only one side. Putting his underpants back on, he went into Kaidan’s section of the closet and put on one of his old, worn shirts that always smelled a little like him. Sitting down on the bed, he fiddled with his omni-tool before sending Kaidan a message.

_‘Hey’_ – sent 2:34

 He didn’t have to wait long to get a reply, and his heart clenched when he read it.

_‘Hey._ _I was just thinking about you.’ –_ received 2:35

He typed back a quick reply.

 ‘ _How many more days until you’re back?’ – sent 2:35_

_‘Six. Five more nights and one more day.’ – received 2:35_

_‘You staying out of trouble?’ – sent 2:36_

_‘When have I ever been trouble, John? ;)’ – received 2:36_

 Shepard smiled and curled up in their bed, lying on Kaidan’s side. Shepard had never been homesick for a person before, but then again, he’d never been this in love with a person, either.

 So much so he was willing to buy new underwear to take ridiculous photos in a mirror.

 ‘ _You been sleeping?’_ – received 2:37

 He hadn’t, but he said yes anyways, not wanting to worry Kaidan.

 Deciding this was far too morose, he opened up his email and uploaded a few of the photos, ignoring how un-sexy it had become to look at his dick now that he’d orgasmed.

_‘Sent you an email,’_ he texted back. _‘Open it up in private. Unless you want to share my ass with everyone in your room. Then by all means go ahead.’_

_‘Haha. You didn’t send me dick pics, did you?’—received 2:40_

‘ _You’ll see.’—sent 2:40_

‘ _John... I’m really tempted to open them up during this meeting.’—received 2:40_

Shepard grinned. Then decided to change the subject. ‘ _So I was thinking about getting into porn.’_

_‘Haha.’ – received 2:42_

_‘Wait.’ – received 2:42_

_‘Wait what?’—received 2:42_

_‘You could be my co-star.’—sent 2:43_

_‘The Bubin to your Blasto?’—recieved2:43_

Shepard pulled a face. ‘ _Great. Thanks for ruining the movies for me.’_

‘ _Seductively: Enkindle me, John.’—received 2:44_

Shepard could picture Kaidan perfectly in that moment. He was probably trying to hide his smile, his gaze flicking up from his omni-tool as he attempted to remain professional. If Shepard were there he’d keep trying to get a rise out of Kaidan—sending him messages and photos until he finally cracked.

 Shepard’s own smile began to wane, and the sense of longing took hold again.

  _‘Miss you,’_ he found himself writing.

_‘Miss you, too.’ – received 2:46_

_‘Keep the bed warm for me?’ – received 2:46_

_‘And the fridge well stocked with lagers and bacon.’ – sent 2:46_

_‘You’re too good to me.’ – received 2:46_

_‘Just wait until you open your messages.’ – sent 2:47_

_‘I have to go. I’ll call you tonight before bed. Love you.’ – received 2:48_

Lying on his back, Shepard stared up at the ceiling and willed the tight feeling in his chest to go away.

Six days, five nights, and twelve hours until Kaidan came home.

XX

Shepard wasn’t used to being the one waiting at the docking bay for the ship to arrive. Standing a short distance away from everyone else, he gripped his cane tightly and watched the ships arrive and leave through the window, waiting for a very specific one to pull up at the gate.

 He’d arrived early and sat in a cafe for an hour, attention fixed on the clock as his cup of coffee cooled. Fifteen minutes before Kaidan’s ship was due to arrive he headed to the gate, coffee undrunk. There were other family members milling about, a few speaking with one another in a tone that indicated familiarity. Shepard didn’t know any of these people. Didn’t know if he wanted to introduce himself, either.

 He was here for one person and one person only. If he had it his way, he’d be on that ship with Kaidan, still serving in the Alliance, doing good and feeling good. But he wasn’t. He was a civilian now, relegated to waiting on the dock along with everyone else.

 He clenched his jaw and breathed evenly through his nose. He couldn’t—no, he _wouldn’t_ —get angry. This was just how it was…

 He was now John Shepard. Not Commander Shepard—not anymore.

 The ship pulled up to the dock, dragging Shepard from his brooding thoughts. Kaidan was just a passenger on the vessel but even then it took twenty minutes for people to begin streaming out, their Alliance blues fitting perfectly on their forms as they strode, heads held high and shoulders pulled back.

 Shepard ignored them, eyes glued on the door as he waited for a familiar face to come out. Working his jaw back and forth, he bounced his cane on the ground, impatient and willing to show it. A couple minutes later and Kaidan was out, rucksack over his shoulder and casual dress already on. He was talking to someone as they walked out, but as soon as he saw Shepard he said his goodbyes and jogged over, a brilliant grin on his face.

 Meeting him halfway, Shepard dragged him into a tight, rough hug. Kaidan had only been gone for two weeks and yet it felt like an eternity for Shepard. He had barely slept, his anxiety had been a constant, and he was pretty sure he had a panic attack when the neighbor dropped their recycle bin across the street.

 But Kaidan was home. Things were… things were stable again.

 “Hey, you,” Kaidan said against Shepard’s temple. He could feel the smile against his skin.

 “Hey,” he replied, voice muffled as he shoved his face against Kaidan’s neck.

 Pulling away after only a few seconds, Shepard cleared his throat and looked around, hoping no one had been watching. He still wasn’t used to being so… open, about his relationship with Kaidan. First it had been their positions in the military making it imperative they at least attempt to keep up with appearances. But if Shepard was going to be honest, he wasn’t used to showing his softer side either. Years on the streets and then dedicating his life to the military had drilled into his head the importance of putting on a strong appearance at all times. There was no room for affection.

 But he was a civilian now. A civilian waiting for his partner to come home, standing on the docks, in a t-shirt and jeans.

 “You wanna get out of here?” he asked.

 Kaidan nodded and picked up the bag he’d dropped. Hefting it over his shoulder, they left the dock, Kaidan talking about the trip while Shepard basked in the sound of his voice so close—so near—to him.

 It wasn’t until they were home that Shepard kissed him. It was just a press of their lips together and nothing more, both just wanting to feel each other more than anything else. When they pulled apart Shepard cupped his cheek, noting the permanent stubble was a little darker.

 “Haven’t shaved in a few days?” he asked, now petting Kaidan’s cheek.

 “Mm, didn’t have time. Last few days were hectic.” Kaidan leaned into his touch, eyes closing for a moment before he moved in for another quick kiss.

 Shepard wanted to ask him about what had taken up all of his time, but knew Kaidan couldn’t—and didn’t want to—say. He probably saw some combat, slavers and privateers running amok in the galaxy after the Reaper War had destabilized everything. It worried Shepard sick to think about how Kaidan was out on that field without him to watch his back.

Entering the bedroom Kaidan collapsed on the bed with a grunt, legs and arms spread out over the expanse of the mattress. Shepard joined him, head pillowed on Kaidan’s arm as they stared up at the ceiling together, basking in one another’s presence.

 God how he’d missed this.

 “So…” Kaidan began, amusement in his voice, “a jockstrap, eh?”

 Shepard smirked. “You didn’t say anything about it over the phone. I thought maybe you forgot to open it.”

 “Oh I opened it. A lot. Multiple times.”

 “Enjoy them?”

 Kaidan hummed. Rolling on to his side, he ran his hand down Shepard’s chest, the two sharing a grin. “I enjoyed them a lot. I especially liked the one of the ceiling.”

 “Shit. I didn’t mean to send that one.”

 “Nah, it… added to the effect. It was like a story, you know? I didn’t need to see it to know what had happened.”

 “A story?” Shepard asked.

 “Yeah, like… when the Major’s away, the Commander will play.”

 “Did you find that on one of your extranet fetish sites, along with asari in pinstripe suits?” Shepard asked, laughing as Kaidan rolled his eyes and ducked his head.

 “It’s been five years since I made that _one_ comment, John. Let it go.”

 “Nope.”

 Lifting his head, Kaidan sent Shepard a small smile, his gaze softening. “We should take some photos together next time. You know, for when I have to leave again I’ll have something to take with me.”

 Shepard’s smile faltered. Of course he’d have to leave again. It was his job—he’d go off on a ‘mission’ that he couldn’t tell Shepard about, assure him with false promises that he wasn’t going to be seeing combat, and leave him for weeks at a time. Shepard knew this—there wasn’t any reason to get upset.

Yet Shepard couldn’t quell the uneasiness he felt in his stomach whenever Kaidan said he was going away for a few weeks. It went beyond simple homesickness, but he didn’t want to think about it beyond that. He didn’t want think too deeply about most of his issues.

 And so he didn’t. He bottled it up; buried it; pretended it didn’t exist.

 Swallowing the bitterness, Shepard hooked his arm behind Kaidan’s neck and dragged him in for a deep, passionate kiss.

 “Why don’t we get started?” he suggested when they broke apart.

 He’d enjoy the time they had now.


	3. The All Clear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard gets the all clear to continue his physical relationship with Kaidan after months upon months of surgery. Too bad this comes with its own set of problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another oneshot set pre-Soldier's Heart. Soldier's Heart should be updated in the next little while; my beta has gone to Montreal to visit her partner, so things are a bit at a stand-still!

“The skin grafts have completely healed over and I see no signs of infection—in fact the scarring over the area is very minimal. You’re lucky, Mr. Shepard, that the grafts took well. Sometimes it can take months for the healing process to finish, particularly when you’re replacing cybernetics with more cybernetics.”

 The Salarian surgeon turned away from the photographs on his computer, pride for his work in his eyes as he looked across the room to Shepard and Kaidan.

 “It’s a good thing you had me working on you,” he continued. “The asari wanted to amputate it.”

 Shepard nodded and looked down at his knee. It ached. The weather outside had turned dreary and cold, and a sudden stiffness had taken hold of it.

 “Yeah… good thing,” he mumbled, and resisted the urge to poke it.

 “So he can start physio soon?” Kaidan asked.

 “It depends on what his other surgeons say—you have a meeting with your Gastroenterologist soon, right?”

 “Already had it,” Shepard said. Crossing his arms over his chest, he sat back in his wheelchair, gaze still stuck on his knee. “The damage has healed. My guts are fully functional, doctor.”

 The Salarin hummed and went back to his computer to input something. “That’s good news.” He sighed and turned back around, Shepard looking up just in time to catch the smile sent his way. “The human body is remarkable; so resilient and adaptable. Almost like a Korgan!”

 “And the physio?” Shepard asked, his voice gruff with impatience. He just wanted to go home.

 “Well, if you’ve been given the go-ahead by your other surgeons I don’t see why you can’t start it soon. Your knee is as healed as it will ever be. The atrophy might be an issue, but the therapist can certainly ease you into things. But it didn’t seem to give you any trouble last time Cerberus, ah, re-built you.”

 It had. Shepard dealt with muscle cramps and seizes for months after he’d woken up in the Cerberus lab, Miranda’s voice and the security sirens booming over him while his muscles resisted every movement. But he had to keep moving; dying again wasn’t an option.

 Not then, anyways…

 “Thanks, doc.” He nodded his head and extended his hand. His doctor took it, long, spindly fingers wrapping around his wrist in a firm hold.

 “No trouble at all. It was my pleasure.”

 He knew he should have felt something more at being told it was done. That the countless operations were finally over; no more sedation, no more messy bandages and leaking wounds—no more goddamn medi-gel and it’s horrible minty clean, antiseptic smell. And yet he found it hard to work up his enthusiasm for anything these last few months.

 Maybe a part of him didn’t believe it. He’d been told before that things were progressing only to learn he had another seven operations to look forward to. And it wasn’t just his knee. His guts had been crushed under the rubble and everything had to be repaired, including the slow process of re-structuring his bladder, an operation that took almost a full day to complete, and two months’ worth of recovery. His shoulder ached before the Reaper War and continued to cause him trouble, and he’d even seen forced to see a cosmetic surgeon who said they could fix his trademark scar on his forehead—a suggestion that was quickly and firmly shot down.

 Point was, he’d waited for the light at the end of the tunnel for so long, he’d gone blind when it finally came, unable to distinguish the truth from the countless number of false promises he’d been given before.

 He was also just desperate to get outside and leave the hospital once and for all.

 Kaidan had other ideas.

 “Before we go, doctor, we had a question,” he began. He shot Shepard a quick look, hesitancy in his eyes. It took Shepard a second to realize he was asking for permission to ask whatever it was he wanted to ask.

 Then he remembered their discussion this morning.

_‘We should uh… we should ask about intimacy today,’ Kaidan had said over a perfectly innocent bowl of cereal._

_‘You think?’_

_‘Well… only if you want to but—‘_

_Months of handjobs and limited touching; chaste kisses and hungry glances; no privacy or stamina…_

_It had been a long time since he’d had Kaidan inside._

_‘I want to. Yeah… yeah, we should.’_

 He nodded and stared down at his lap as Kaidan took the plunge.

 “We were wondering if it was okay to resume our… uh… our physical relationship?” he said, voice lifting high at the end, giving away his discomfort.

 Shepard smiled under his hand.

 “You mean sex?” the doctor said, chipper as always.

 “Yeah...”

 The Salarian nodded. “So long as you do things carefully, I do not see any reason why you cannot continue your prior mating rituals. I will suggest, however, that you take things slowly. Mr. Shepard may be healing, but he’s still not one-hundred percent. There may be discomfort where there was none before, and you might find him lagging in certain uh… areas. But the risk of a repeat injury is minor, so long as you treat him with care.”

 “That won’t be a problem,” Kaidan said. Shepard noted the pink hues to his cheeks.

 “If you’d like I can find a list we give to our quadra and paraplegic patients on positions that are most comfort— ”

 “That won’t be necessary,” Shepard cut in. It was embarrassing enough having to ask for permission to have sex, it was an entirely other thing to get sex-tips from a Salarian. He felt like Joker.

 They said their goodbyes and Kaidan repeated Shepard’s gratitude. Hurrying out, Shepard breathed in the crisp clean air from outside as soon as possible, burning away the stench of anti-bacterial soap and sickness.

 He could go another lifetime without having to smell that.

 “So… today is a big day for you,” Kaidan said as they strolled down the street toward the car. His hands were shoved in his jacket’s pockets, his breathing crystalizing in the air with each syllable.

 “Yeah… yeah I guess it is,” Shepard replied. He was still trying to find the enthusiasm.

 “Did you want to celebrate? My treat.”

 Shepard was about to decline, but when he looked up at Kaidan he couldn’t do it. He seemed so happy in that moment—eyes bright and cheeks pink. This wasn’t just a big day for him—it was a big day for Kaidan, too. Kaidan had been with him through almost all of it. He’d sat by his bedside in the hospital, attended every doctor’s visit, and kept his spirits high when Shepard’s faltered.

 This was _their_ victory day.

 “How about the pub near our house? It’s clam chowder Tuesday,” he suggested.

 Kaidan nodded. “Great idea.”

XX

  Easing himself off his wheelchair, Shepard put all his weight on his good leg and pressed his hips up against the kitchen counter. Opening the cabinet, he began putting away the drinking glasses. All the while he was testing his bad leg’s ability, foot gently resting against the floor, toes wiggling back and forth.

 Staring down at his legs, he shifted his weight ever so—

 Bad idea.

 The muscles screamed out and Shepard bit the inside of his cheek. Grabbing the counter, he leaned forward and wheezed out the pain, not wanting to draw Kaidan’s attention from the living room. Reaching back, he flopped into his chair and breathed heavily through his nose, the pain dissipating with each breath.

 Physio was a good idea. He would get better—he just had to be patient. Which had never been one of his virtues…

 Pulling up the break, he wheeled himself into the living room, noting Kaidan was hunched over his console, a knot of deep concentration between his brows. He didn’t seem to notice Shepard as he rolled past, and missed the look Shepard shot him when he noted what was on his screen.

 Very clinical porn.

 Stopping behind Kaidan, Shepard gave the screen a second look. There were two men on the screen obviously having sex, one in front of the other as they lay side by side on the bed, back to chest. The man was penetrating the one in front of him, arms wrapped around him like he was giving him a bear-hug.

 A sexy bear-hug.

 But the picture wasn’t particularly sexy, and as Kaidan scrolled down it, the images looked more and more like an instruction manual than titillating pornography.

 “That’s clinical,” he said as he rolled around the couch, coming into Kaidan’s field of view.

 “Uh, yeah… it’s not porn,” Kaidan replied, attention still on the images. “I mean, it is kind of porn, but it’s not for getting off.”

 Shepard shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat, K. I’m not going to judge you… much.”

 Kaidan rolled his eyes and patted the cushion beside him. “C’mere.”

 Lining up his wheelchair, he pushed himself up and off, collapsing on the couch beside Kaidan. Resting his arm on the back cushions he relaxed as best he could, his leg still aching from the dumbass mistake he’d made earlier.

 “So what’s with the images?” he asked, watching the screen as Kaidan scrolled down to another series of images, this time with the man straddling his partner’s chest as he was sucked off.

 “Well… your surgeon got me thinking,” Kaidan mumbled, attention half on him and half on the screen. “I thought… uh… oh wow.”

 He came to a picture of the men sixty-nining.

 “We’ve done that,” Shepard said. He couldn’t help the smirk on his lips as he said it.

 “Yeah but not in like… a really long time.” Kaidan sat back and rested his hand on Shepard’s bad knee. His battle worn hands were always gentle and careful even when they had no cause to be. It frustrated Shepard to be treated like he was made of glass—everyone always careful lest they snap him in half. He was used to being manhandled—both on and off the field, with Kaidan holding on to him with a fierce possessiveness he’d come to love.

Once upon a time he’d even head-butted a Krogan.

 But that was once upon a time.

 He held back a heavy sigh and relaxed under Kaidan’s gentle touch best he could.

 “So you were thinking about what the surgeon said, and…” Shepard prompted.

 “And he’s right. I have to—I mean, _we_ have to be gentle. We can’t go at it like we used to.”

 Shepard sighed and looked down at Kaidan’s hand. He didn’t want to hear that; didn’t want to admit that this was an issue. He hated that every part of his life was effected by this goddamn fucking leg; that the simple, pleasurable things in life—the things that should have been his escape—were just another reminder of what he’d lost when he’d woken up in the rubble of the Citadel.

 “Hey… hey, John?”

 Shepard’s chin was grasped, and he turned his head to lock eyes with Kaidan. Kaidan’s touch softened, fingers running along his jaw to cup his cheek.

 “Sorry, I just…”

 He didn’t want to talk about it, but…

 “Can’t we just do it like how we used to?”

 “John… you can’t walk. How are you going to—”

 “Fuck you?” he shot back. Pulling away he leaned forward and ducked his head. “God, K, don’t make this into an issue. Please. Everything is a fucking mess and this is—you’re the… fuck, I don’t know. I just…”

 He steadied his breathing, frustration at the situation threatening to make him say things he knew he’d regret immediately. Running his hands roughly over his face, he sat back and continued. “You’re the only thing that makes sense in all of this right now. What we have… it’s what keeps me going and… and I don’t want this,” he waved his hand over his leg, “to make its way into our bedroom. I want to feel normal with you.”

 Kaidan was silent, attention fixed on the coffee table, thick brows pulled tight.

 “I know that’s what you want, John, and I sympathize,” he began slowly, every word carefully chosen. “But you and I both know that it isn’t possible—not right now. In a few months, yeah, we can do everything we used to, but for now… we don’t we try something easier—on both of us?”

 He looked over at Shepard, dark whiskey coloured eyes locking with his own piercing blue. “Sex with you is going to be amazing no matter what we do. I just want you to feel… to feel good, you know? I know if we try anything too strenuous it is going to hurt you. And I don’t want that. I want us to both have a good time. And so what if I have to do a little extra work? You don’t think I can’t handle that?”

 He shot him a genuine, heartfelt smile, and Shepard found himself unable to resist it.

 “You just want to sixty-nine again,” he teased, because joking about it was easier than talking about it seriously. He didn’t want Kaidan to know how terrible it made him feel; how he felt like half the man he should be.

 He just had to focus on the positive. Like sex with Kaidan. Because sex with him was never bad. Maybe a little awkward at times, but that was just part of the appeal. It was natural and… it just felt good.

 No matter the physical limitations.

 “I gotta admit—I’d like to do that and a lot more,” Kaidan replied, eyes turning dark with hunger.

 Shepard felt a spike of excitement shoot down into his gut, and he couldn’t help but kiss Kaidan’s smirk away.

 “Then let’s get started,” he said when they broke apart.

 He’d deal with his issues some other time. Right now, it was time to celebrate the little victories in life; like finally being able to make love to his partner after all this time. 


	4. Fussing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after chapter 5 of Soldier's Heart. Shepard finds a bit of peace with Kaidan after a rough day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Involves sex so... don't read at work.

His fingers tangled in dark black locks, the strands thick and soft under his calloused, war torn hands. Stern, full lips parted in a soft expression as he was filled, a string of curses slipping past as he was hit _right there_. His legs were spread and his knee ached, but he ignored it in favour of concentrating on everything else—from the way he sounded, thrusting above him, to the scratch of stubble against his lips and the solid, grounding weight on top of him.

 It was hot out, the windows open, warm, summer air drifting lazily inside of the room, the orange glow of the sun highlighting the bronze in his skin and deepening the shadows on his features. He could feel sweat beading up between their stomachs, back slick and thighs sticky. Another string of curses and another deep kiss, his bottom lip caught in a bite. Curling up and around him, he kissed his neck and buried his face against the taught muscles, close to the edge as hips rocked around in a messy circle.

 A few more strokes and—‘ _shit_ , _I’m coming—just a—oh fuck!_ ’

 He collapsed back on the mattress, the afterglow running up and down his limbs, mind foggy and fixated on one thing within the haze.

  _Kaidan_.

 He held on to him tight, arms wrapped around his shoulders and lower back, keeping him in place. He could feel his frantic heartbeat against his own and counted his breaths, soothed by the feel of _life_ above him.

 “I love you,” he mumbled against his temple, fingers running slowly up and down his back. He pressed a kiss to the grey hairs and stared up at the ceiling of their room, watching the shadows of the leaves dance across the orange bathed walls.

 Shepard didn’t want Kaidan to move but his knee was beginning to throb, his leg stretched to the side at an uncomfortable angle, reality breaking through the fog with each twinge. But he kept him where he was, wrapped up in his arms, not wanting to let go—never wanting to let go.

“I love you too,” Kaidan said, his voice more breathy than usual. He raised his head to look down at Shepard, dark brown eyes bright with pleasure.

 Shepard reached up and ran his thumb along one of his dark brows before cupping his cheek, taking in the sight of him, from the three freckles on top of his eyebrows to the scar on his lips to the dimple in his chin. He was hot, his leg hurt, and there was a dampness below him that was quickly cooling, but he couldn’t care less.

 “You alright?” Kaidan asked, concern in his voice. He moved a bit, getting out from between Shepard’s legs so he could stretch his knee out. But he stayed on top, Shepard not letting him get away so easily. He needed Kaidan’s weight on him—needed that reassurance and comfort Kaidan brought.

 Lying here, like this, Shepard was grounded. He wasn’t in space, all alone, begging for just one more breathe.

 Now all he was begging for was one more kiss; one more touch; one more fuck.

 “I’m fine,” he said. He accepted the kiss, fingers mussing up Kaidan’s hair even further.

 Kaidan broke away and propped himself on his elbows. Reaching up, he ran his finger along the crescent shaped scar along Shepard’s hairline. He’d asked how Shepard had gotten it, expecting a grand tale of heroics and action.

 Instead he got the truth _. ‘Fell off a swing set when I was a kid’_.

 “You sure?” Finally the heat was too much and Kaidan flopped down on the bed beside him, the two sighing in relief as the cooling air slid along their bellies and chests. “Your therapist said you had a rough session.”

 Shepard rolled on to his side and ran his hand along Kaidan’s chest, through soft chest hair before resting over his heart. He concentrated on the rhythm. “I’ve had rough sessions before. It’s fine.”

 “I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

 “I’ll be _fine_.”

 “Yeah, but—”

 “Kaidan, you’re fussing,” Shepard interrupted.  

 “Sorry.” Kaidan shot Shepard a sheepish smile, one that Shepard just had to kiss.

 When they broke, Shepard made a series of kisses down Kaidan’s jaw and neck, taking his time, hand still over his heart. “I just need you,” he said, nipping his collarbone. He could feel Kaidan stir beneath him, and felt a familiar curl of pleasure in his own gut. “My therapist said I need to have fun tonight… so… I’m having fun.”

 Kaidan’s husky laugh was cut off by a soft moan, Shepard moving further down his chest, lips covering a nipple. He felt his hand cup the back of his head, fingers brushing against the short buzzed hairs. Breaking away, he gripped Kaidan’s hips and got him to roll over.

 “You ready to go again?” Kaidan asked over his shoulder, surprise mixed with amusement in his voice as Shepard kissing between the sharp blades and down the toned muscles of his back.

 Shepard just hummed in answer as he kissed one, two, three freckles on Kaidan’s lower back. His knee was hurting as he curled it under himself but he ignored it, his cock semi-hard again and Kaidan’s responding in equal turn the lower Shepard’s tongue danced.

 “It’s been a rough day,” he said.

 He kissed the dimples on Kaidan’s back.

 “I really need this.”

Then he playfully bit one of his cheeks.

“I really need _you_.”

 Then he grabbed the firm muscles, one in each hand, pulled apart and kissed—

 “Oh god,” Kaidan moaned.

 It seemed whatever talking Kaidan wanted to do could wait.


	5. Hey, Handsome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard's idea for a 'pet name' for Kaidan verges on the side of awkward, but somehow Shepard makes it work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shep is a lovable dork. That's pretty much the thesis for this oneshot. Also some insane Shepard-ception at the end. Be prepared to have your MIND BLOWN.

Kaidan fiddled with his datapad, his attention on the stars in front of him. Furrowing his brow he tapped the edge of the pad against his hand, bottom lip sucked between his teeth as he fought to concentrate on the stars and not what lay beyond their peace.

 Countless numbers of Reapers were out there decimating the galaxy as he was sitting reading mindless Spectre reports. How many people were dying in that very moment? How many people were suffering as he sat in the safety the Normandy offered, removed from the fight? Just how many innocents were begging for mercy from a being that knew of no such thing? How many—

 The swish of the Starboard Lounge doors broke Kaidan from his thoughts, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Shepard approaching, shoulders pulled back and steps steady despite the exhaustion in his gaze.

 “Hey, Shepard…” he said. Turning back around, he leaned forward and pretended to be invested in his report.

 “Hey, handsome.”

 Kaidan quirked a brow.

_What?_

 “Hey, handsome?” he repeated as Shepard sat down next to him.

 Shepard shrugged and nodded his head at the datapad. “What are you working on?”

 “Uh… Spectre reports,” he said slowly. He was still hung up on Shepard’s oddly adorable comment.

 He never thought Shepard was one for pet names; his rough and tumble personality born from his life on the streets giving him a certain harsh edge that didn’t really predispose him to such things. And yet…

 Shepard sighed and rubbed Kaidan’s back roughly. “Good luck with that.”

 Kaidan rolled his eyes and went back to his report. Shepard had stopped rubbing but his hand lingered, palm warm and comforting.

“Thanks, cutie.”

 It was Shepard’s turn to look confused.

XX

 Kaidan’s ass was numb.

 Shifting from side to side, he tried to get the feeling back as subtly as he could. The nurse had told him his pacing was making the rest of the waiting room uncomfortable, and so he was in proverbial lockdown for the next however many hours he had to wait. 

 Which wasn’t that long in the end.

 One of Shepard’s nurses appeared from around the corner five minutes later, just as Kaidan was debating getting up under the guise of having to use the washroom. Standing, he hurried over to her, ignoring the odd tingling pain in his rear-end in favour of knowing how the operation went.

 “How is he?” he asked as soon as she’d lead him down the hallway, away from the other restless and nervous family members awaiting news on their loved ones.

 “Everything went according to plan,” the nurse said with a bright smile that Kaidan hadn’t expected. She’d been part of the operating team that had worked for close to ten hours on Shepard.

 “So he’s going to recover, uh… function of his bladder?”

 She nodded. “We need to monitor the situation for a while, and he won’t regain use of it for another few days, but the cybernetics took and his surgeon is hopeful that we can remove the external collector.”

 Kaidan breathed a sigh of relief at the news. “Thank you for all your work,” he said.

 She accepted his hand and shook it firmly. “It was a pleasure. Anything to help those who sacrificed so much for us here on Earth. You can go in and see him, if you’d like. He should be waking up right now.”

 Kaidan nodded and thanked her again, before hurrying off to Shepard’s room at the end of the hallway. Shepard always struggled waking up after his surgeries, a certain panic in him that cut through the usual fogginess that accompanied such heavy anesthetic.

 Knocking on the door twice, Kaidan entered to find Shepard already awake, eyes half-lidded as he stared up at the ceiling. As soon as Kaidan entered his attention was on the door, eyes sharp for a second before warmth seeped into them, and a lazy smile appeared on his cracked lips.

 “Hey, handsome,” he drawled out.

XX

 There was nothing better than sleeping in.

 Curled up under the blankets, Kaidan kept his head pressed against his pillow and his back to the windows, early morning light losing its battle to make it into the dark cocoon he’d made for himself. He’d woken up ten minutes ago but refused to get up, too comfortable and warm to move even an inch. Soon, his stomach would growl; soon, he’d have to pee; soon, Cosmo would come in demanding to be taken out for a walk in the cold, crisp winter air.

 But it wasn’t soon just yet.

 He felt movement beside him, and finally cracked an eye open to see Shepard was still in bed with him— a rarity that was becoming more frequent the longer he went to therapy. Previously, Shepard lay in bed for a few hours before prowling about the house until daybreak, leaving the bed empty and cold on one side. But things had changed recently. He didn’t sleep very much, but he stayed relaxed in bed, dozing next to Kaidan, offering his company even though Kaidan wasn’t awake to appreciate it.

 But he knew when Shepard was next to him. After all this time together, Kaidan knew…

 Shifting, he scooted close to Shepard and wrapped his arm around his waist, hand slipping under the waistband of his pajama bottoms to rest just above his groin. Shepard made a noise deep in his chest, and leaned back into Kaidan’s embrace.

 They didn’t say anything for a while, both comfortable in the silence. Kaidan closed his eyes and breathed in Shepard’s scent, nose pressed against the back of his neck, lips applying a soft, gentle kiss. Eventually, however, Shepard moved in his grasp, rolling over until he was practically on top of Kaidan, pushing him down into the mattress in a bear-hug.

 Laughing against his shoulder, Kaidan returned the hug, reveling in the way Shepard practically purred against him.

 Resting on his elbows, Shepard stayed poised above Kaidan, their stomachs pressed tight together, each breath felt with a rise and swell.

 “Hey,” Kaidan mumbled, leaning into Shepard’s touch as his fingers carded through his hair.

 “Hey, handsome…” Shepard mumbled, a smile on his lips before he kissed Kaidan—slow and sweet and steady.

XX

 Kaidan watched the people dance from his seat in the booth, fingers drumming a beat on the table along with the music. He didn’t recognize the song the band was playing—didn’t really like it, if he was going to be truthful—but that didn’t matter. What did matter was the energy of the place; how everyone was moving together, grins on their faces and hands swinging wildly in the air, a few belting out the lyrics along with the singer.

 It was date-night, and he and Shepard had arrived at their favourite pub to see that a local band was playing. It had been Shepard who had suggested they stick around for the show, curious to see what kind of music they played—or so he claimed. Kaidan was positive he just didn’t want to walk anywhere further, his leg giving him trouble he refused to vocalize.

 Besides, it was good, every once in a while, to be reminded of why they fought so hard all those years ago. It was for these people—the ones shimming along to out of tune guitars, a croaky vocalist, and a drummer that outshined them all.

“Hey, handsome.”

 Kaidan accepted the beer Shepard brought him. Turning his attention away from the stage, he admired Shepard under the low-lights of the bar as he sat in nice and close—close enough Kaidan could feel his warm breath against his cheek and count his eyelashes. His eyes were twinkling with affection, full lips pulled into a relaxed smile. He was completely present with Kaidan, his attention focused on him and not the crowd of people or the flashing lights. Just a little over a year ago such an event would have triggered panic attacks, his anxiety spiking and paranoid going through the roof.

 But here he was, rolling the bottom of his bottle against the table casually, his gaze glued on Kaidan and nothing else. There was still a tension in his shoulders, and Kaidan caught the clenching of his jaw and the slight jumps and ticks when anyone drew too close without him being aware, but this was incredible progress that Kaidan was not going to take for granted.

 Relapses happened; the PTSD would always be with them.

 But not tonight.

 Tonight was a good night.

 “Hey, cutie,” Kaidan said, grinning.

 Shepard rolled his eyes and took a deep swig of his beer.

 “I bet you Wrex could play a guitar better than him,” Kaidan said, nodding his head toward the stage.

 Shepard laughed. “Wrex would play a guitar by smashing it against an amp… so yeah, he’d be better.”

 They spent the rest of the night making out like teenagers under the strobing lights, smiling between kisses and laughing until their cheeks hurt.

XX

  Kaidan came home from an overnight trip to an empty house.

 Dropping his duffle bag down by the door, he wandered through the house, poking his head into every room in search of his elusive ex-Commander.

 There was a bark from the backyard.

 Stepping into the kitchen he looked out the back window to catch sight of Shepard with Cosmo, the two in a competitive game of tug-of-war. Cosmo seemed to be winning, his jaws locked tight on a rope that he was slowly inching away from Shepard.

 For a second—just a second—Kaidan worried. Shepard didn’t have his cane and Cosmo was yanking him forward gently, step by step, down the uneven ground of their backyard.

 But Shepard was grinning, the tell-tale expression of pain on his face entirely non-existent. He looked happy as he played with Cosmo, his attention completely on him and not all the other things that caused him so much stress. Kaidan could hear him laugh, terms of endearment slipping past his lips like ‘boy’ and ‘munchkin’ as Cosmo looked up at him like he was the most important thing in the universe.

 Kaidan knew that look well. Wore it a few times himself whenever he was with Shepard.

 Shepard managed to rip the rope from Cosmo’s mouth, and before he could grab it again, Shepard lofted it across the backyard, Cosmo bounding after it with his tail held high in the air and ears perked up.

 Cosmo was doing his job better than Kaidan could have hoped for. He was there when he couldn’t be, was in tune with every tick and change in Shepard’s emotions, and offered that much needed stability when Shepard felt like the world was going to give-way at any moment. Kaidan was thrilled to have Cosmo, and yet…

 Yet a part of him was jealous.

 Jealous of a fucking dog.

 He could do everything that Kaidan wished he could. He could snap Shepard out of a panic attack in just a few minutes, where it took Kaidan close to ten—on a good day. All he had to do was be there for Shepard to smile and laugh and remain present and in the moment. Sometimes, no matter what Kaidan did, Shepard was distant, trapped in the trauma of his past.

 It was stupid, though. Cosmo was a dog—a dog that was trained to deal with this sort of behavior. He had… he had a weird sixth sense that all dogs had when it came to hurt and anxiety that humans didn’t. Still… Kaidan was jealous.

 Shepard turned around then, as if he knew he was being watched, and their eyes locked through the window. He grinned then, and Kaidan felt a similar smile creep on to his face. As soon as Cosmo was back with his toy Shepard was heading inside, Kaidan meeting him in the hallway.

 “Where’s your cane—“

 Shepard grabbed him and pulled him into a huge hug, arms wrapping tight around his waist and sliding up his back. His stubble chin scratched pleasantly against his neck, and Kaidan returned the hug with just as much enthusiasm.

“Hey, handsome,” Shepard mumbled as he lifted his head. They shared a quick kiss. “I missed you.”

 “You had company,” Kaidan replied.

 Shepard kissed Kaidan again. “I missed _you_ ,” he repeated. “I could have all the company in the world, but if you aren’t there with me…”

 Kaidan smiled.

 Maybe Cosmo didn’t have everything.

XX

 Kaidan couldn’t sleep.

 It was just one of those nights. He didn’t have anything going on in his head to worry him; didn’t have any pressing matters to attend to; wasn’t angry or sad or excited, and he certainly wasn’t left wanting, the afterglow of spectacular sex still tickling his limbs.

 He just couldn’t sleep.

 Rolling over on to his side, he peered up at Shepard. He was sat with a datapad on his lap, the glow from the screen highlighting the dips and angles of his face.

 Shepard’s gaze flicked over to Kaidan, and he quickly turned off the datapad.

 “The light wasn’t bothering you, was it?”

 Kaidan yawned and stretched his arms above his head. “Nah. I just can’t sleep.”

 “Hey… that’s my line.” Shepard lay down next to Kaidan, the datapad falling between them.

 Picking it up, Kaidan turned it back on, eyes squinting as the light shone on his face and bright colours filled up the screen.

 “You’re reading comics?” he asked.

The panels featured a young woman with vibrant red hair and green eyes, a smirk on her lips as she dashed from frame to frame, defeating the bad guys with cat-like grace. Scrolling further down, he came to a scene with the woman sitting in an office, a turian next to her on the couch as they talked about the crime syndicate they were trying to take down.

 The next frame showed them sharing a kiss, the woman saying ‘Hey, handsome’ as they broke apart.

 “I used to read this series as a kid,” Shepard explained as Kaidan continued to scroll. “One of the guys who ran the Reds subscribed to the series, and he’d leave issues lying around the apartments. When I first joined up they kind of… treated the younger kids by buying them candy and shit to make us loyal, or give us a sense of home or something. Anyway, they let us read comics when we weren’t off peddling drugs for them.”

 “What’s her name?” Kaidan asked.

 “Jane. She fights crime and is kind of a hero in her neighborhood. Saves a lot of inner-city kids. You know… typical kind of stuff. I loved it as a kid, though. I wanted to be Jane, you know?”

 Kaidan smiled. “Yeah… yeah, I get that… when I was a kid I used to read Battle Krogan. It was about a Krogan Battle Master who avenged wrongs in the galaxy. I had the entire series in paperback, action figures, posters—everything. I was pretty obsessed for a couple of years. I remember I wanted to marry his sidekick.”

 “Yeah?” Shepard scooted in close so they were sharing the pillow.

 “Yeah. She was this asari justicar. Like your friend Samara, only she wore like… this bright green spandex suite. I thought she was incredible.”

 “Sounds like your type,” Shepard said with a chuckle.

 “Hey, you’d look good in spandex, too.”

 “Good luck living that fantasy, Kaidan.”

 Kaidan laughed. “Mm, I prefer you in what you’re wearing now.”

 “I’m naked.”

 “Exactly.”

  He’d come to the end of the comic. Jane had just been in a fight and been hurt badly, but the last frame was of her in the hospital, a smile on her lips as she looked up at her turian partner.

_‘Hey, handsome.’_

 Putting the datapad down on the side table, Kaidan rolled over to curl up against Shepard, their legs tangling together immediately.

 “You’re kind of a dork, you know that?” he said against Shepard’s collarbone.

 Shepard always put on a tough guy exterior in public. He didn’t want anyone in his life or to know his business, and did a pretty good job at making the public think he was nothing more than a brute with a shotgun who happened to save the galaxy a couple of times.

 But Kaidan was privy to all of Shepard. From the gruff, disgruntled Commander most people saw, to the hidden gentle dork that Kaidan lived with; a man who knitted sweaters for his dog, went weak in the knees at the sight of cupcakes, saved spiders from certain death, and was, Kaidan just discovered, inspired by crime fighting comic books.

 Shepard grunted and kissed the top of Kaidan’s head. “Is that a bad thing?”

 Kaidan smiled and curled in closer. “Nah… not at all… cutie.”

 


	6. Naps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaidan takes a nap with Shepard; too bad it's not in the way either had in mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set about five months after the Reaper War. Shepard is still in pretty rough shape, but at least Kaidan is with him!

 Shepard watched the steady rise and fall of Kaidan’s chest as he slept in the chair next to his hospital bed.

 Stress lines that crept out along his eyes and the corners of his lips were momentarily soothed, brows relaxed and hands limp as they rested on his stomach. His head was turned to the side, facing Shepard, lips parted, an almost-snore slipping past. It was more a gentle wheeze—a noise Shepard had grown accustomed to what seemed like years ago back on the Normandy.

 He was wrapped up in his Spectre hoodie, dark blue fabric bunched up at the neck. Underneath he still wore his Alliance uniform, camouflage blue and black boots only slightly marred from days spent in the rubble, searching for the bodies of the dead, months after the war had been ‘won’.

 Shepard would have felt bad for letting Kaidan sleep during their visiting hours, and knew Kaidan was going to complain that he’d let him as soon as he woke, but Shepard saw the exhaustion in his eyes and the wary stance he took anytime he walked into his room. He needed the sleep.

 Kaidan spent his days with the search and rescue crews looking for any lingering survivors, but mostly finding the dead hidden behind great slabs of concrete and buried under the ashes of their city. Physically it was exhausting, Kaidan using his biotics to lift all day long. Psychologically…

 Kaidan would never admit it, but finding only the dead, day after day, got to him. Maybe he was too proud, or had begun to believe the lies the Alliance told about emotions and passion being a liability—Shepard didn’t know—but he rarely talked about it. Instead he preferred to hide his exhaustion with smiles and concern for Shepard.

 But Shepard wasn’t allowed to be concerned for him, apparently. Kaidan could worry himself into a fit about him, but the second he voiced his apprehension it was deny and avoid and deny some more.

 Kaidan fell asleep almost as soon as he came to visit, and Shepard wasn’t about to wake him up. Instead he quietly worked on his latest physio exercises to re-train his hands, making the difficult mundane once again. He’d recently been given Lego from his therapist, and told to make the Alliance cruiser on the front of the box.

 It had taken him days to get the front of the ship done, his hands shaking and fingers fumbling, but he’d done it—without any help. It was a small, tiny victory. Not much, but better than sitting in a bed, wasting away and wishing he were…

 Sighing, he tore his gaze away from Kaidan and got back to work, the sun setting as he worked out one of the wings. Dinner came and still Kaidan slept, Shepard eating his applesauce cup in silence, soothed by Kaidan’s mere presence. With Kaidan here, even asleep, Shepard felt less caged by his thoughts. He felt like he could breathe again—maybe even function like a normal person.

 Sitting back once his meal was finished, he noted the time.

 Five minutes until visiting hours were over.

 His nurses had, on occasion, given them more time than was afforded to most patients, but Shepard didn’t want to press his luck today. Leaning to the side, he reached out to touch Kaidan’s shoulder, side aching and resisting the movement as his leg stayed locked in place, pins and metal frames encasing and grounding it.

 Patting Kaidan’s shoulder, he shook him gently but firmly. “Hey… hey, K… time to get up.”

 He watched as Kaidan’s eyes fluttered open, whiskey hues clouded with sleep as he looked around the room. It took him a second to register where he was, confusion evident on his face.

 “How long was I asleep for?” he asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting up, Shepard returning to his more comfortable position on the bed.

 “Two hours,” he replied.

 Kaidan dropped his hands, suddenly awake. “I slept through our entire visit!?”

 “You clearly needed it,” Shepard began, “You sat and chatted for five minutes until suddenly you were asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”

 “John… you should have… you should have woken me or something,” Kaidan said. His voice was still thick with sleep, but Shepard heard the irritation and disappointment in his tone. “We only have two hours together…”

 “I’m not going anywhere for a long time. They’ll be other visits.”

 Kaidan made a face and sat forward in his chair. Running his hands through his hair, he sighed and sat up straight. “Don’t let me sleep again, alright? I can sleep back at the barracks.”

 Shepard didn’t want to make a promise he knew he wouldn’t keep. He also didn’t want to argue with Kaidan during their last… three and a half minute’s worth of visiting time. He just nodded and grabbed the energy bar he hadn’t eaten. Tossing it to Kaidan, they both smiled when it landed exactly on his lap—right where Shepard had intended for it to go.

 “I saved it for you. You need it more than I do.”

 “I’m not the one strapped to a hospital bed,” Kaidan said.

 Shepard shrugged. “And I’m not the biotic out in the field lifting heavy cinderblocks around all day. Just eat it.”

 Unwrapping it, Kaidan took a bite as he stood, attention going to the Lego ship.

 “It’s looking good,” he said over the mouthful of granola.

 “You said that when you came in today.”

 Kaidan rubbed the back of his neck. “I… uh, don’t remember that.”

 “Because you fell asleep a few seconds later,” Shepard said, amused.

 Patting the side of the bed, he nodded his head to Kaidan. “Sit with me before the nurses kick you out?”

 Kaidan did as instructed, hand immediately taking Shepard’s own in a gently hold. His thumb rubbed up and down the back of his hand, gliding over scars that still hadn’t fully healed. Shepard just watched the movement, enjoying the easy nature of it—the simple comfort such a touch could bring.

 “Hey—sit up a bit,” Kaidan said, letting go of Shepard’s hand.

 Shepard quirked a brow but did as Kaidan instructed, while Kaidan stood and removed his hoodie.

 “You giving me your hoodie?” he asked as Kaidan helped him into it. His shoulder muscles pulled and the bruises over his abdomen groaned painfully, but as soon as he was in the hoodie the pain melted away.

 “I’m lending it to you,” Kaidan explained.

 Lifting the corner up, Shepard smelled Kaidan’s scent and Alliance detergent. Smelled like home.

 “Thanks, Kaidan,” Shepard said softly. “I’d lend you something of mine, but…”

 “It’s fine.” Kaidan smiled and bent down for a slow, easy kiss.

 Shepard’s chest squeezed painfully as his lips touched Kaidan’s own, and he closed his eyes, trying to bask in his embrace. He hurt all over; couldn’t and didn’t want to sleep; wrestled with his inner demons day in and day out. Nothing seemed to soothe his turmoil.

 Except for this.

 Except for Kaidan.

 “I’ve got the day off tomorrow,” Kaidan said when they pulled apart. “Maybe the nurses will get you rigged up to your wheelchair and we can go outside? Air quality has been good the last week. Barely any dust in the sky.”

 “Sounds great.”

 Kaidan kissed him again, another slow, long one that left Shepard feeling a mix of emotions—most of them good.

 “Love you.”

 “Love you, too,” Shepard mumbled.

 Patting his butt gently, Shepard motioned him toward the door. “Now go and eat something. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 Kaidan saluted Shepard, another motion that made Shepard’s chest squeeze with the familiarity of it all.

 “Aye aye, Commander.”

 Just as Kaidan was almost out the door, however, Shepard stopped him with a quick ‘hey’. Turning around, Kaidan quirked a brow, eyes still clouded with sleep and shoulders weary with exhaustion and defeated.

 “You’re doing good out there, K… keep your chin up,” Shepard said, desperate to give him some support—even if Kaidan didn’t think he needed it.

 Kaidan chuckled softly, his gaze skirting downward in a familiar tell-tale sign that he was embarrassed. He did that even on the Normandy whenever Shepard commended his quick thinking.

 “Thanks,” he finally said. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

 Shepard nodded and, for some bizarre reason which he’d blame on the cocktail of drugs he was on, he blew Kaidan a kiss, one he ‘caught’ with some surprise.

 Kaidan left then, shoulders slumping as soon as he was turned around. Shepard watched him go, wishing he could leave with him. Curling up in his hoodie, he stared up at the ceiling and counted down the minutes until tomorrow. 


	7. Living Room Sleepover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaidan wants to sleep; Shepard can't sleep. The two come up with an interesting compromise involving a pillow fort and infomercials.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Mareel :)

 Most nights, Kaidan woke up alone.

 He’d rarely started that way, of course. Shepard would be tempted into bed with the promise of a kiss on the lips and a pair of strong arms wrapped tight around his waist—a gentle, calming reminder that he was here with Kaidan; alive, present, and loved as he lay wrapped up in their shared bed, far from the emptiness of space that had claimed him years ago.

 But eventually Kaidan would drift off to sleep, leaving Shepard wide awake and staring at the wall, mentally distant as he tried desperately to sooth the irrational part of his brain that told him if he closed his eyes he’d be dead once again. He could only do so much staring, however, before he grew restless. Kaidan’s arms would pull away from his waist and the breath that tickled the back of his neck would move to the other side, Kaidan having rolled over in his deep sleep.

 It was then that Shepard would get up and pace through the house. It used to be a ritual of his—an extra security precaution he thought he still needed to do. He’d check all the locks on the windows and doors making sure everything was locked and tightly sealed. After walking the perimeter of the house for the seventh time, he’d sit in the kitchen and stare at the clock on the microwave, counting down the seconds until dawn would come and hide away the darkness up above. 

 When they got Cosmo things began to calm down. Kaidan woke to Shepard still being in bed, and every once in a while he’d find Shepard actually asleep—eyes closed and breathing even, a peacefulness to his face Kaidan rarely saw but always cherished.

But Cosmo couldn’t fix everything, and old habits die hard. At least once or twice a week Kaidan would wake up alone. He’d fumble into the kitchen in the early morning to see Shepard in his usual spot, back against the wall and a glass of water on the table, his eyes locked on the clock, Cosmo’s head resting on his lap, keeping him company during his long, exhausting vigil.

 Kaidan was used to it. Didn’t mean he liked it, but he was used to it.

 Now and again, however, waking up to an empty bed got to Kaidan, and instead of rolling over to go back to sleep he’d go and look for Shepard.

 Tonight was one of those nights.

 He’d come home late from work, exhausted and sore, his amp pressing painfully on the back of his skull. Shepard had kept quiet most of the night, seeing a fog in his eyes that told them both a migraine was looming on the horizon.  A quick dinner and a long shower alleviated some of the pressure, and Kaidan went to bed with a minor headache instead of a migraine, the throbbing in his skull saved for another day. Shepard had climbed into bed with him, despite it still being early, and lay with his head pillowed on Kaidan’s shoulder as he drifted off.

 Waking up at one in the morning with no warm body next to him had been… disappointing. A part of Kaidan knew that he should go back to sleep. He had work in the morning, Shepard has a therapy session later in the day, and it was _cold_.

 But the sentimental, irrational side of him—the side that demanded he find Shepard and drag him back to bed so he could feel like they were a normal, functioning couple for just a couple of hours—won out. He just wanted Shepard next to him; to feel his warmth and hear his steady breathing. To roll over and kiss his shoulder, run his hands around his narrow waist, and hear that deep, familiar rumble in his chest that told Kaidan that for now—in this very moment—Shepard was happy.

 Slipping out of bed, Kaidan navigated his way through the dark with bleary eyes. Immediately he headed toward the kitchen, years of finding Shepard staring at the clock conditioning him to look there first, when a light from the living room caught his eye.

 Redirecting himself, Kaidan stepped into the archway of the living room to see Shepard sitting on the couch, head rested against the back and gaze fixed on the ceiling as the television cast a bright, flickering light across it. Cosmo was laid beside him, head on his lap and eyes closed.

 Shepard didn’t move when Kaidan approached. Rather he continued to stare.

 Flopping down beside him, Kaidan slouched into the cushions and looked at the TV. There was an Asari and a Krogan on it trying to sell some utility belt.

 “Infomercials?” he asked, relaxing as Shepard’s hand dropped on to his thigh, fingers slipping up under the hem of his boxers to rest against bare skin. “Kind of cliché, wouldn’t you say?”

 “They were selling self-cleaning carpets earlier,” Shepard replied, attention still on the ceiling.

 Yawning, Kaidan turned to look at Shepard. His neck was stretched out, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, a couple days’ worth of scruff coating his jaw that was clenched tight. His gaze was distant and devoid of anything, really. If Kaidan didn’t know better he’d have said he was high. But he did know better.

 This was the look of a man who was severely sleep deprived.

 “You get any sleep?” he asked.

 “No.”

 Sighing, Kaidan ran a hand over his face and mimicked Shepard’s pose. The light from the TV danced across the ceiling, making the shadows twist and turn with every movement. It hurt Kaidan’s eyes to look for too long, and he dropped his head back down.

 Shepard was still staring.

 “You going to come back to bed?” he asked, yawning again.

 Shepard grunted.

 “Because I could really use the company,” Kaidan admitted.

 That got Shepard’s attention. Lolling his head to the side, he looked at Kaidan. In the bright, flickering light of the TV, the bags under his eyes were even more pronounced.

 “I don’t think I can lay in the dark tonight, K,” Shepard said quietly.

 “Is that why you have the television on?”

 Shepard smiled weakly. “Caught me.” Sighing, he looked back up at the ceiling. “The movement from the screen is… it’s comforting. If I close my eyes I can see the movement and… shit, I don’t know.”

 “It reminds you that you’re… here?” Kaidan supplied.

_And not dead._

“Yeah.”

 Kaidan was exhausted. He desperately wanted to just go back to sleep. But seeing Shepard like this, and knowing he’d have to go back to bed alone? It made things more complicated.

 Scooting closer, Kaidan rested his chin on Shepard’s shoulder and breathed in his clean scent, desperately trying to brainstorm an idea while already half asleep.

 And then it clicked.

 Sitting up, he mumbled about how he’d be right back as he set off back to the bedroom. There was a gentle click of nails behind him, Cosmo following, ears perked in curiosity as he threw open the linen closet.

 If Shepard wanted the TV, and Kaidan wanted to sleep, they’d just have to compromise.

 Grabbing as many blankets as he could, Kaidan carried them back to the living room and dropped them in a messy pile right next to the coffee table. Ignoring Shepard’s confused look, Kaidan used his biotics to lift the coffee table and shove it against the wall, clearing space in the middle of the room. Kicking the blankets into the centre of the rug, Kaidan held up his hand to Shepard as he made move to question him, and returned to the bedroom to grab the blankets and pillows from the bed, Cosmo trailing alongside him the entire way.

 Dropping them on the armchair next to the couch, Kaidan got to work.

 “Kaidan… what the hell are you doing?” Shepard asked slowly.

 “I’m making like… a blanket nest. Or something.”

 “On the floor?”

 “We both won’t fit on the couch comfortably,” Kaidan explained, spreading the blankets out on the floor, one on top of the other, in an attempt to create a mattress. “If you want the light from the television, I’ll bring the bedroom to you.”

 “Isn’t it going to be hard to sleep on the floor? I mean my leg can handle it but you’ve got work tomorrow and—”

 “John,” Kaidan straightened up and rested his hands on his hips. “I think I’ve been really patient these last few years in accommodating you. So do me a favour and let me cuddle you while I sleep, alright?”

 Shepard smiled and lifted his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright—continue with your… blanket nest.”

 “Thank you.” Kaidan returned the smile and went back to work, making sure the scratchier blankets were at the bottom while the soft were at the top. As he did this, Shepard got up and limped over to the corner of the living room. Picking up Cosmo’s doggy bed, he dropped it down beside the rug and called him over to it.

 It didn’t take long for Kaidan to make the bed. It looked comfy, but Kaidan knew Shepard was right in his assessment that they’d both be feeling it in the morning.

 But cuddles with Shepard were worth anything, honestly. Kaidan had gotten himself into a few uncomfortable positions over the course of their relationship just for the sake of a few kisses. He’d sleep on the floor with the television on if it meant he got to hug Shepard close in his sleep.

 Tossing the pillows up at the ‘head’ of the bed, Kaidan watched as Shepard slowly eased himself down, leg stretched out in front of him as he did so. Mindful of not hovering too much, Kaidan grabbed their down comforter and waited until Shepard was lying comfortably before unfurling it over top of him. Snatching the television controller, Kaidan joined Shepard on the floor, grunting loudly as his back hit the pad of blankets.

 Shepard just laughed.

 “You still sure about this?” he asked, taking the controller from Kaidan. Muting the television, he rolled on to his side to face Kaidan, cheek pressed against his pillow. He was still smiling.

 “Positive,” Kaidan said without hesitation. Scooting in closer, he grabbed Shepard and pulled him in. Ducking his head down, he pressed his face against Shepard’s collarbone, sighing as Shepard kissed the top of his head. Immediately Shepard slipped his hands under the waistband of his boxers and rested both palms on his ass, nothing sexual about it.

 Just one of the many casual, intimate things they’d eased into over the course of their living together.

 “Sleep well,” he heard Shepard say just before falling back asleep.

XX

 Kaidan woke to the smell of cooking bacon and a lower back pain that shot deep into his gut.

 Groaning, he rolled over and stretched out, back popping loudly. His movement attracted someone’s attention, and he opened his eyes to see two brown eyes peering down at him.

 “Hey you,” he said, roughly petting the back of Cosmo’s head. Grimacing as a wet nose was pressed against his cheek, he shoved him away and sat up. “I’m not the one with bacon—go bother John.”

 Rubbing his hands over his face roughly, he sighed and stood up, muscles protesting the movement. It was with a bit of guilt that Kaidan wondered how Shepard got out of their ‘blanket nest’ without waking him up, the movement difficult enough with two functioning legs let alone just one.

 Approaching the kitchen, Kaidan was greeted with the sight of Shepard stood at the stove, bacon cooking next to a few sausages, and a bowl of whipped up eggs just waiting to be fried and served scrambled.

 “Hey you,” he said, touching Shepard’s shoulder. Peering down at the stove, he smiled when he noticed Shepard had cooked the bacon on low heat, making them extra crispy—just the way he liked it.

 “Hey,” Shepard said, turning his head for a quick kiss.

 Moving to prepare the coffee—as was his custom—Kaidan eyed the clock, noting it was seven-fifteen in the morning. That gave him just enough time to eat and get dressed before he had to get to work.

 “So… how’d you sleep?” he asked, watching the coffee drip out into the pot below. “Or I guess: did you sleep at all?”

 “I slept about five hours,” Shepard replied.

 Kaidan lifted his gaze from the pot to look over at Shepard. “Really?”

 He nodded. “Yep. Five hours and… two minutes. Give or take. I just got up and started making breakfast.”

 “That’s great, John. That’s really great.”

 Shepard nodded and flipped the sausages over. “Yeah…”

 “Do you think it was the light from the TV that helped?”

 Shepard shrugged. “Could be… It was easier to fall asleep. Kind of reminded me of my old room on the Normandy. You know, with the fish tank and all.”

 “Maybe we should get a tank for our room,” Kaidan suggested.

 “Can we get an eel again?”

 Kaidan pulled a face. “No.”

 Shepard sighed loudly, but there was a curl to the corner of his mouth that told him he wasn’t serious. “Fine; no eel. How about a shark?”

 “John… really?”

 “Or a bunch of bottom feeders. Or, how about we go down to the harbour and catch something. Send something deep, deep down and see what we bring up.”

 “John.”

 “Maybe we’ll catch a mermaid.”

 “I could live with that.”

 It was Shepard’s turn to pull a face.

XX

 In the end they settled on tropical fish they bought at a pet store. Shepard’s sleep issues were, and probably always would be, an issue, but with the light from the tank creating patterns on the ceiling, and the constant, soothing bubbles from the filtration system filling in the silence, there was no need for another sleepover in the living room.


	8. The Normandy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and Kaidan remember the Normandy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set after chapter 7 of 'Soldier's Heart'. If you haven't read it (and have no intention of reading it) essentially Shepard feels a massive amount of guilt over killing EDI, and during his therapy session he... maybe sort of kinda punched a wall...

“Do you ever think about how the Normandy used to smell?”

 Kaidan shifted, stubble rubbing against Shepard’s stomach.

 “How do you mean?” he asked, voice thick with Monday malaise.

  Running a hand through Kaidan’s hair, Shepard stared up at the ceiling of their house, watching the sunlight from outside turn from white to orange to pink the longer they lay.

 “I mean, do you ever think about the smell of the Normandy. That crisp, almost… plastic smell right next to the galaxy map... how the cockpit always smelled like Joker’s shit cologne and that espresso he insisted on drinking…”

 “And how the gun table smelled like Ashley’s favourite cinnamon shampoo?” Kaidan added.

 Shepard grunted. “I remember that request.”

 Kaidan lifted his head, and Shepard could feel his eyes on him. “What request?”

 “The cinnamon shampoo wasn’t regulation. She had to clear it with me—and yes, we both found it ridiculous.”

 Kaidan chuckled, low and deep as it slid down into Shepard’s groin. Already sated from their previous love-making, the coil loosened quickly.

 “Alliance and their procedures…”

 “Would have loved to have been in the room when you had to explain your hair,” Shepard mumbled, finger twirling around a curl. When out of its styled hold, Kaidan’s hair was a fluffy mess of black curls with streaks of grey—a whirlwind that Shepard relished getting caught up in.

 “I just flashed them my Alenko smile and they were totally fine with it,” Kaidan said.

 Shepard wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not.

 “What about the sounds,” Kaidan said after a pause. “The Normandy SR-1 had this low hum all the time that you could feel in your teeth.”

 “I liked it,” Shepard admitted.

 Kaidan huffed. “Hurt my head.”

 “You didn’t like it?” Shepard asked.

 Kaidan moved then. Sitting up, he stretched his arms above his head, Shepard admiring the flex and pull of his back muscles, and how the light from outside highlighted the dips of his shoulders and the swell of his ass. Flopping down on the bed next to Shepard, he noted Kaidan had a red patch on his skin from where he’d laid his cheek against his stomach.

 “It was fine when I didn’t have a migraine, but the constant white noise was… uh… unpleasant,” Kaidan explained. “Plus—the consoles were bright.”

 “I liked it,” Shepard repeated.

 Kaidan scooted closer and pressed his forehead against Shepard’s temple, arm wrapping around his chest loosely. “What about the SR-2?”

 “Too quiet,” Shepard replied. “And when the Alliance got a hold of her, they made everything so dark.”

 “I liked it.”

 Shepard snorted. “Of course you did.”

 “Quiet and dark—just to my liking. Besides; I got to enjoy the Captain’s Cabin.”

 Shepard ran his fingertips along Kaidan’s arm idly. “I miss that room.”

 “Who wouldn’t? You had space for all your models, shelves for your hamster, and a big—if not hard—bed… plus, a private shower.”

 Shepard laughed. “It was nice not to have to shower with a couple of bare-ass marines next to you.”

 “Even me?”

 “Showers with you are a bit different, K.”

 Kaidan wrapped his leg over Shepard’s waist, the other slipping between his own, tangling their legs together. Rolling on to his side, Shepard pressed in close, hand running up Kaidan’s thigh to stop at the swell of his ass. Cupping it, he smiled as Kaidan moved in for a slow, easy kiss.

 “Some good memories in that room,” Kaidan said when they broke apart. “I was happy when you asked me to bunk with you for the remainder of the mission.”

 “The room got cold without you,” Shepard mumbled, grunting slightly as Kaidan began to grind against him. “Besides… I had room to spare and space to fill… you fit perfectly.”

 Kaidan kissed him again, this time deeper. Relaxing in his embrace, Shepard moved his hips forward, biting Kaidan’s bottom lip as he pulled away to gasp. Rolling on to his back, Shepard pulled Kaidan with him, hands moving up and down his back, beads of sweat making his skin slick and hot to touch as the autumn air slunk through an open window.

 Kaidan pressed himself between Shepard’s thighs, his hardening length pulsing against the underside of Shepard’s balls. Moving together, Shepard closed his eyes and rode out the sensations, hands gripping Kaidan tightly as he moved up above him. Heavy pants and wet, kiss bruised lips caressed Shepard’s temple and the shell of his ear, while strong hands stroked his thighs and gripped the sheets next to his head.

 Moments like this, with his eyes closed and Kaidan all around him, Shepard could almost hear the hum of the Normandy and the scent of Alliance issued detergent; feel the vibrations of the drive-core and taste on the tip of his tongue the promise of adventure and limitless possibilities.

 Here with Kaidan, Shepard felt like he was back home.

 The edge was near, both coaxing each other toward it. Opening his eyes, Shepard locked them with Kaidan’s whiskey brown, and kept them locked as they jumped off together. Cupping Kaidan’s face with shaking hands, Shepard kissed him deeply, body tightening then relaxing as the waves of their shared release washed over him.

 When they were finished Kaidan stayed poised above, sweaty hairs stuck to his forehead that Shepard brushed them away. Kissing him, Shepard lay limp beneath, steadying his breathing with each lazy brush of their lips.

 Collapsing on the bed, Kaidan let out a satisfied sigh, arms spread out over top his head and toes wiggling as he stretched out. They’d done nothing all day save for spending time with Cosmo, Shepard’s therapy session the day before worrying Kaidan enough that he’d taken the last few days off from work. Shepard’s hand still ached and the stone in his gut had only grown in size, but fucking his troubles away with the man he loved made him relax—if just a little.  

 But his mind was growing restless despite the fatigue in his limbs. A knot formed in the base of his throat, and he tried to swallow it away.

 Standing with a grunt, he went to the bathroom to wash up, belly covered in the result of their love-making. Returning to the bedroom Kaidan was sitting on the edge of the bed, attention fixed out the window to the setting sun. The light had turned a darkening blue, stars barely visible the longer Shepard looked. Soon they’d be cast in darkness, the stars and everything above their only companion.

 “I miss her,” Shepard whispered.

 Kaidan turned, brows furrowing slightly. “Yeah… I do, too…”

 Approaching the window, Shepard rested his arm against the frame and pressed his forehead against the cool glass. He felt Kaidan come up behind him, and sighed as warm hands wrapped around his waist and a solid body pressed against his back.

 “Do you think she… I mean…” Shepard paused, trying to gather his thoughts, his words catching on the knot in his throat as he tried to speak. “Do you think she felt pain?”

 “I… dunno, John.”

 “Think she’d forgive me for what I did?”

 “You did what had to be done. She knew what was on the line. She’d have done the same—we both know it. So… yeah, I think she would.”

 Sighing, he closed his eyes and wished Kaidan’s reassurances were true. 

 “You should visit the Normandy sometime when she’s docked in Vancouver,” Kaidan suggested tentatively. He rested his chin on Shepard’s shoulder and kissed the back of his ear.

 “I don’t think I could do that, K. I can’t… I can’t go in and not hear… the Normandy lost her soul that day and I don’t think I can face that.”

  Brushing his hand over his face roughly, he pushed away from the window, slipping out of Kaidan’s embrace. Grabbing his discarded pants, he pulled them on along with Kaidan’s Spectre hoodie.

 “I’m going to take Cosmo out for a quick walk,” he said, snagging his cane from the corner.

 One day, memories of the Normandy wouldn’t be tainted by grief and guilt; one day, Shepard would be at peace with the knowledge he did what had to be done; one day, Shepard would visit the grave of the woman he killed.

 One day, Shepard would return to the Normandy.  


	9. Grocery Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard has a bad day at the grocery store.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place about six months before Soldier's Heart begins. Just a glimpse into what Shepard was like before the therapy. Warning about graphic depictions of panic attacks and severe anxiety!

_We can’t live on frozen meals, John._

 That’s what Kaidan had told Shepard when he came back from his first experience at the local grocery store. Shepard didn’t see the problem with eating frozen meals, considering they lived off dehydrated packets of undiscernible food stuffs for years in the Alliance. Not to mention Kaidan practically orgasmed when he found a protein bar in his pocket he forgot about—protein bars that tasted and smelled about as appetizing as moldy cardboard in Shepard’s honest (and right) opinion.

 But apparently frozen meals weren’t good enough for Kaidan. And so Shepard as back at the market, a list in one hand his cane in the other, and a glower on his face.

 Grabbing a basket, Shepard entered the produce section, figuring he’d approach this like a mission. Map out the area first, then plan which things to grab first—lighter followed by heavier. He had to follow the list and not deviate, unless he found something truly bizarre and or delicious. He’d then get the hell out of the store and back home where he could fumble with civilian things in privacy.

 Grocery shopping should have been easy, but it wasn’t—not for Shepard, at least. He’d never done it. Growing up on the streets didn’t afford him much time to peruse the isles of his local market, and the few times he did go inside one of them, with their cheery advertisements and promise of good, wholesome food, he stole what he needed and got the fuck out of there before anyone could stop him.

 When he joined the Alliance all his food was provided—he just had to acclimate himself to the fact that he was getting fed regularly. Everyone else complained about the blandness and the constancy, but Shepard just dug in, not caring if it tasted like shit but rather how much he could shove into his skinny frame.

 But Shepard wasn’t on the streets anymore, had been kicked out of the Alliance, and was, as Jack so kindly put it, ‘a dick-whipped house husband’, meaning it was up to him to cook and clean and generally keep the house running.

 Shepard didn’t like being out of his element; and he certainly didn’t like being out of his element with a fucking cane, a goddamn limp, and a serious case of sleep deprivation, but here he was…

 Grabbing a cucumber, Shepard was about to drop it in his basket when he noticed two other kinds of cucumbers right next to the one he picked up. Checking the list again, Kaidan’s scratchy penmanship just spelled out ‘Cucumber’ and nothing more.

 Putting the first one he grabbed back, he eyed the other two, trying to figure out what was different about them.

 Nothing. There was nothing fucking different save for price.

 He picked up the one he originally chose and dropped it in the basket. A cucumber was a fucking cucumber, right?

 The rest of the produce went relatively quickly, Shepard grabbing lettuce and tomatoes and apples, Kaidan actually writing down the types he liked (Romano, Roma, and Royal Gala), before he moved into the isles, hand gripping his cane for dear life as he tried desperately to hide his limp.

 He swore people were looking at him as he walked down the canned food isle. They had to be. He could hear his cane as it tapped against the linoleum, and the items in the basket rustled back and forth as he limped from shelf to shelf. He knew he looked as awkward and out of his element as he felt.

 Avoiding eye contact with everyone in the store, Shepard continued on with his mission, reminding himself that he was a goddamn ex-marine, Reaper killer, and honorary Krogan. Who the fuck cared about the pitying looked a grandmother was giving him as he struggled to balance his cane and the shopping basket.

 Who the fuck cared?

 Picking up a can of beans, he turned it around in his hand, hoping these were the right ones. Kaidan had mentioned he’d teach him how to cook chili, but hadn’t instructed him on whether he should get pinto or… whatever else they had.

 As he was doing this, he kept the basket resting between the shelf and torso, his stomach keeping it from falling off the edge. His hand wrapped around his cane was beginning to ache, the palm pressed hard against the plush top, but he kept himself steady until—

 His leg spasmed.

 The muscle from groin to knee pulsed quickly, the nerves screaming out in agony for the briefest of moments. But that was all it took for Shepard to drop his basket, contents spilling out on the floor, the apples and tomatoes making a valiant escape.

 Unable to mask the pain, Shepard braced his hand on the shelf and squeezed his eyes shut, the initial spasm gone but the discomfort still lingering. Breathing hard through his nose, he clenched his jaw, desperate for the hot, burning sensation to leave.

 “Sir, are you alright?”

 Shepard opened his eyes and looked over to see a young woman with a small child standing a distance away. The woman was staring at him with concern evident in her eyes, a hand already reaching out to touch his shoulder. The child was busy tapping its toe against one of the tomatoes.

 “I’m fine,” he gritted out. Pushing himself away from the shelf, he ignored the pain in his knee and straightened up. His cane suddenly felt very large and obvious in his hand.

The woman continued to hover, obviously not convinced.

 “Are you sure? Here, let me help you—”

“I’m fine,” he repeated.

He watched the child continue to touch the tomato—a quick pat-pat-pat on the skin. His mother turned her gaze downward as well, and a sharp rebuke followed.

 “Thomas! Don’t do that,” she said. Sighing, she bent over and began picking the items up. Putting them in the basket, she instructed Thomas to fetch the escaped apples.

 Shepard didn’t do anything. He couldn’t do anything. The muscles in his leg were still twitching away, and each small, subtle movement sent a jolt of pain through his left side. Instead he allowed the woman to help, jaw locked tight and head held high.

 The illusion of strength was all he had left now.

 It didn’t take long for everything to be cleared up, and he accepted the basket with his free hand, noting she’d placed the pinto beans inside along with everything else.

 “Thank you,” he said, voice still gruff with pain.

 “It’s no problem at all, sir. You might want to get some new tomatoes, though,” she said as she bent down to pick up her son.

 Shepard nodded and shifted the basket higher up on his arm. “Yeah, I think I will. Thanks again.”

 She continued to stand in front of Shepard, bottom lip sucked between her teeth like she wanted to say something. Shepard had seen that look before—knew what it meant. She recognized him. It wasn’t hard to tell. She’d either ask for an autograph or thank him for his service, both things he didn’t want to hear. 

 “I’ve got to go,” he said before she could make up her mind. He nodded her head at her and began to move, hoping she didn’t hear the slight wheeze that slipped past as his muscles began to lock in place. Pushing past the pain, he hurried to the check out.

 He didn’t bother getting different tomatoes.

XX

 Shepard stared at the bruised tomatoes in the sink as a steady stream of water rolled down and around them. Tilting his head to the side, he swore he could see a tiny shoe print on it.

 The front door opened with a bang.

 Shepard slammed his hand over the tap to turn it off. Turning around, he gripped his cane tight, breathing coming in quick and fast as he stared at the doorway to the kitchen, ready to grab the knife just inches away on the cutting board.

 It would take him three seconds to grab it; the intruder would take ten seconds to get across the room. In those extra seven seconds Shepard could meet him half way and strike out with his armed hand, the other going up and around to counter their attack.

 Hit him in the gut, then the neck. Quick one two and send him hard on to the ground.

 If the intruder didn’t have a gun.

 If he did Shepard could just roll behind the table, kick the chair out and—

 Kaidan appeared round the corner.

 “Hey, John, I saw you went back—”

 Kaidan stopped in the middle of the doorway.

Shepard’s heart was still hammering in his chest, eyes wide and throat dry. He still wanted to grab for that knife—still wanted to protect himself. His fight or flight instinct was screaming at him; pulse point frantic and breathing heavy. He wanted to fight; wanted to run; wanted to strike out and get the fuck away.

 He could smell smoke in the air, hear the screech of the Banshee, feel the burn of a bullet against his cheek.

 He had to go. He had to fight. He had to live or—

“John?”

 Kaidan’s voice bashed through the memories and Shepard slumped against the counter, adrenaline still pounding through his system but the need to flee abating.

 Kaidan didn’t approach. He stayed in the doorway, omni-tool still up from the messages he’d been checking, bright and orange in Shepard’s bleary view.

 “Sorry,” he finally said, trusting his voice not to shake. Standing up straighter, he coughed into his hand. He noticed he was trembling.

 He was home. He was home, with his partner, making chili. He was…

 He was _home_.

 “You alright?” Kaidan asked. Stepping into the kitchen, he approached Shepard carefully. Reaching out just as slowly, his hand wrapped around his wrist. Shepard knew Kaidan could feel his pulse. Knew that he knew he wasn’t okay.

 He just nodded. “You just scared me, is all.”

 Kaidan’s face came into view, Shepard looking at him and not his omni-tool. Concerned whiskey coloured eyes locked with his own, and Shepard grounded himself in the familiar, if not concerned, gaze.

 “I didn’t mean to. The wind caught the door,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

 Shepard nodded again. “Y-yeah, I figured.”

 Shepard accepted the hug Kaidan gave him. He couldn’t close his eyes, but he relaxed best he could in his embrace. He smelled like gun oil.

 “You were at the shooting range?” he asked. He didn’t want to talk about what just happened; didn’t want to talk about how he almost pulled a knife on him because he mistook him for something else.

 That wasn’t who he was. That wasn’t…

 Fuck.

 “Yeah.” Kaidan was petting his back, slow, easy strokes up and down his spine.

 Finally Shepard closed his eyes, trusting Kaidan to be his lookout. He breathed evenly through his nose, and turned his head to shove his face against his neck. They stood together silently, Kaidan humming a song Shepard didn’t recognize.

 Finally, after five minutes of just _being_ , Kaidan spoke, voice muffled over Shepard’s shoulder.

 “You bought tomatoes?”

 “Yeah… might taste like shoes, though.”

 Kaidan chuckled. “Well uh… okay then.”

 Pulling apart, Kaidan cupped Shepard’s cheek, keeping him present with him—in the moment. And not back on some fucking battlefield, screaming out his defiance in the face of some mutilated Batarian.

 “I really am sorry, John.”

 “Stop apologizing. It wasn’t your fault.”

_I’m just fucked up, is all._

 Kaidan sighed and bumped their foreheads together. Shepard closed his eyes and tried to take in Kaidan’s steadiness and calmness for himself. It took another five minutes until the pressure in his chest alleviated and he felt like he could breathe again.

 “I love you,” he mumbled, breaking the silence. Kaidan hummed, his low voice shooting down into Shepard’s gut.

 “I love you, too. And thanks for picking up the groceries. If its…” Kaidan trailed off, but Shepard knew what he was going to say.

_If it’s too hard I can do it._

 “I’ll be fine. I just need to use a shopping cart next time,” he said.

 Kaidan nodded and pulled away, but not without a gentle kiss. “And uh… if you feel like maybe some days you don’t want to go grocery shopping… just tell me and we can go together after work?”

 Shepard nodded. Sighing, he ran a hand over his face, stretching the skin across his already hollow cheekbones. Turning around, he went back to washing the vegetables while Kaidan changed out of his work clothes. By the time he returned Shepard was cutting up the cucumber, using the knife he’d sought as a weapon not twenty minutes ago.

 Swallowing the sickness in his throat, he cut the pieces into thin slices, focusing on the mundane, simple, civilian action.

XX

  Kaidan didn’t ask about Shepard’s day, and Shepard didn’t tell him. Instead they ate homemade vegetarian chili with pinto beans and baby-shoe tomatoes. Shepard forgot to buy the ground beef but Kaidan made it work.

 All the while Shepard tried not to look at the doors and the windows; tried not to think about how long it’d take for someone to get into their bedroom, and desperately thought of other things to say than to beg Kaidan to sit with him so that he could protect him from the ghosts that lurked in the perimeter.

 Shepard tried to be normal; he tried to be a civilian. He tried to be anything other than what he knew he truly was.


	10. Cosmo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard makes a new life-long friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best work, but I thought Cosmo deserved a little introduction beyond what I gave him in Soldier's Heart. Simple fluff.

 “Do you think they’ll have a dog for me? Because I mean, you have to bond with them, right? What if I don’t bond with my dog?”

 Kaidan tried to hide his smile but it was difficult when Shepard was bouncing around in his seat, his eyes bright with excitement and a boyishness to him that Kaidan hadn’t seen in months.

 “They said they have two dogs that might work for you. And if you don’t bond with them… well, we’ll just have to wait until another one comes round.”

 He reached out and took Shepard’s hand, giving it a quick squeeze.

 “Yeah… yeah, you’re right. But what if the dog doesn’t fit in the bed we bought him? Or her, I guess, because dogs can be girls, too.”

 Kaidan chuckled. “I’m sure they will fit in the bed.”

 Shepard nodded and went back to staring at the door across the way. They’d arrived at the kennel right on time, the secretary at the front desk giving them a warm smile as soon as they introduced themselves. The sounds of multiple dogs barking could be heard in the back, although it lacked the disorganized chaos Kaidan expected from a kennel. But he had to remind himself that this wasn’t just any kennel—this was a place for service dogs. Shepard’s therapist had given them the name of the kennel and told them to meet with a man named ‘Burrum’ in the next week. They’d both been surprised when, upon walking through the door, they were greeted by a large Krogan, his face marred by combat and a scowl that rivaled Wrex’s.

 Turned out, Burrum was actually a gentle giant, the scowl only on his face because he’s stepped in dog shit moments earlier. He’d started up his service dog training programme shortly before the Reaper War, and had seen nothing but success afterward, countless numbers of soldiers needing the companionship and help that the dogs could offer.

 Shepard was just another name in a long list of other men and women who needed assistance, which seemed to suit him just fine. A part of Kaidan feared that Shepard would have been singled out—treated differently from everyone else as soon as they found out who he was. But he wasn’t given any special honours or fast-tracked through the system. Instead they went through the slow process of the interview, and allowed Burrum to look through Shepard’s more personal psychiatry files in order to get a sense of what he needed.

 Shepard took it in stride, and never did he voice his concerns about getting a service dog. He’d been adamant against any help for so long that it was a welcome relief when Kaidan didn’t have to spend weeks—or maybe even years—convincing Shepard it was a good idea.

 Kaidan was also looking forward to having a companion in the house. He always fashioned himself a dog person, despite never owning one, and figured whomever they received would be a welcome addition to their family.

 The thought of he and Shepard being a ‘family’ brought another smile to his lips, and he just shrugged when Shepard shot him a quizzical look.

 “I hope it’s a bigger dog,” Shepard said, breaking the silence.

 “Yeah?”

 He nodded. “Yeah. I want a dog I can be active with.”

 “You can do that with smaller dogs, too,” Kaidan said.

 “I know. But I want a bigger dog.” He spread his hands out, as if to show how big he wanted it. 

 Kaidan nodded. “So long as he stays on your side of the bed we’re good.”

 Shepard leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he stared at the door like an expectant father. Reaching up Kaidan ran his hand up and down Shepard’s back a few times, trying to get him to relax. He was always wound so tight that Kaidan thought the slightest of pressures would make him snap like a brittle piece of wood.

 The dog was supposed to help with that, too.

 Maybe it would get rid of all the knots in his shoulders as well. As much as Kaidan loved being Shepard’s one and only support it got… it got _exhausting_. To have another someone looking out for him when he wasn’t home would be a massive comfort to Kaidan.

 They sat another ten minutes, and just as Kaidan thought Shepard was going to start pacing like a maniac the doors opened and Burrum came out with a datapad, a grin on his large mouth.

 “Come on back, Shepard.”

 Shepard stood with his cane and followed Burrum closely, Kaidan hanging back a little as they strolled down the hallway. Most of the kennels were empty, the dogs that were being trained out on ‘the field’ getting experience. Kaidan peered in a few, noting the difference in breeds and sizes, most of them mutts.

 “How many dogs were left after the war?” Kaidan found himself asking as Burrum unlocked a door at the end of the hallway.

 “A fair few. Dogs are resilient, strong animals. They know how to get by,” Burrum answered, pride in his voice. “A lot of the dogs we have now are rescue dogs! Found in the rubble and given a second chance at life. Maybe a certain someone here can relate to that.”

 Kaidan never thought he’d see a Krogan wink.

 Shoving the door open, Burrum let them go through before shutting it behind them. It was a small room with only a couple of chairs in the center. There was another door off to the side, and Kaidan suspected that was where their new companion was waiting.

 “Take a seat and I’ll grab Cosmo for you,” Burrum instructed.

 “Cosmo?” Shepard repeated, his attention going from Burrum to the door, then back to Burrum. “Is that his name?”

 Kaidan, once again, found it hard not to smile. To the untrained eye Shepard appeared his usual self, but Kaidan knew better. There was openness to his face, eagerness in his eyes as he heard the name of the dog. Perhaps the most obvious change in demeanour was how he wasn’t scanning the room looking for any and all dangers. His back was to the door and his attention fixed on Burrum, no concern for his current situation.

 “That’s his name. You can change it if you’d like, but he responds best to it.”

 Burrum left for only a moment. Kaidan only had time to press a reassuring kiss to Shepard’s temple before the door opened to reveal Cosmo. He was standing primly beside Burrum, sleek black coat shining under the florescent lighting and his floppy ears perked up slightly, giving him an intelligent look. His tail was curled up into a semi-circle, and Kaidan noted it began to wag back and forth as soon as he saw them.

 He was adorable.

 Shepard didn’t say anything for a time. He just stood beside Kaidan, his cane bouncing slightly in his hand. Kaidan rested his hand on his shoulder, momentarily concerned before he saw the tiny smile playing at Shepard’s lips.

 “Call him to you,” Burrum instructed as he unclipped the red leash from the matching collar.

 Leaning forward slightly Shepard tapped his leg and called for him, voice soft.

 “C’mere, Cosmo.”

 Immediately Cosmo trotted over, tail still wagging as he gently nudges his nose against Shepard’s outward facing palm. He sniffed it a few times then gave it a gentle lick.

 “How old is he?” Kaidan asked. He wandered over to Burrum, wanting to give Shepard his time to bond with his new service dog.

 “He’s almost three. We found him in London surviving in the underground tunnels. Poor guy had a broken leg and was almost starved, but he’s a fighter!”

 Shepard moved to sit on one of the chairs and Cosmo followed him. Sitting in front, Cosmo rested his head on Shepard’s hurt knee, but Shepard made no move to brush him off. Instead he pet his head gently, rough hands marred by countless battles both on and off the battlefield rubbing velvety soft ears with such tenderness.

 Kaidan watched Shepard—noted how the smile refused to leave, and how there was a wetness to his eyes that spoke of unshed emotions. He looked down at Cosmo like he was the most precious thing in the universe.

 He realized Shepard was looking at Cosmo like he looked at him.

 “Looks like you’ve got competition,” Burrum said as if to read Kaidan’s mind.

 Kaidan just smiled. It was worth it to see Shepard happy.


	11. Second First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaidan and Shepard go on their second first date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something fluffy for Shepard's birthday. Happy 138th B-Day, Mr. Shepard!
> 
> Now featuring artwork by Bioticjelly!

 Kaidan watched Shepard in an attempt to re-familiarize himself with the man he’d come to love.

 But he didn’t recognize the Shepard he’d first met with the one sitting before him in the living room. Sunlight streamed through the window highlighting healing scars and tired eyes, trembling hands and sloped shoulders. No longer able to stand Shepard sat in his wheelchair, shame in his mannerisms whenever he caught Kaidan watching his movement, hands briefly lifting from the wheels like he thought maybe Kaidan wouldn’t notice—wouldn’t _remember_ —that he couldn’t walk.

 His drugs kept him sedate but he never slept, bags under his eyes pronounced and dulling his brilliant blues. He spent most of his days sitting in their home, gaze out the window and hands tangled together on his lap, itching for a weapon ‘ _just in case_ ’.

 No matter how hard he tried Kaidan just couldn’t kiss his struggles away—couldn’t kiss way the fatigue or the pain, the grief or the hollow ache all soldiers endured after the dog-tags were counted and the bodies lined up. He couldn’t just fight away the anxiety and the panic; couldn’t find a way to keep him present and connected.

 Kaidan never pictured their life together beginning like this. Truthfully he never pictured them having a life together at all—not in the middle of a war when everything was so uncertain. That kind of hope could ruin a man when it didn’t come to fruition.

 No, he never pictured it starting out this way…

 But just because it was a difficult start didn’t mean it would always be that way. He had to try and make it work. He had to try and get that smile back, to hear that laugh, and see those baby blues clear and pain free. He had to _try_.

 “Hey, John…”

 Shepard looked away from the window, brows slightly raised and hands relaxing momentarily on his lap.

 “Yeah?”

 “You wanna get dressed up and go out on a date?”

  Their first date in one year, two months, and six days.

 There was the briefest of hesitation and Kaidan held his breath for the inevitable rebuke, but…

 “What did you have in mind?”

XX

 Kaidan had never seen Shepard in a dress shirt before.

 Tuxedoes? Once. Uniform? Multiple times. T-shirts and jeans? Often. Hospital gowns? An unfortunate repeat occurrence.

 But a dress shirt…

 It didn’t fit as well as it once had, Shepard having lost much of his muscle mass during his stay in the hospital. His shoulders weren’t as broad and his chest not as full, but he still cut an imposing image when he wanted to.

 And he was still as handsome as ever.

 He had gotten ready slowly, taking his time while Kaidan watched, noting how his hands only trembled slightly as he slipped the buttons through their holes and straightened his collar. He gazed at Kaidan through the mirror in front of him, a hesitant, hopeful smile spreading across his lips as soon as he was done.

 Kaidan thought he looked amazing. It had been so long since he’d seen him in real clothes, and not whatever didn’t irritate his scars and wounds, that he’d almost forgotten just how good he could look when he tried. And the fact that he was trying to look good for _him_ was an added bonus.

 Kaidan had made a reservation at a seafood restaurant that he’d visited numerous times before. Vancouver was recovering slowly and with it the active, exciting nightlife, including its many restaurants and shopping districts. Shepard had seemed reserved about it the week leading up to it, but the night of and he seemed to get over some of his anxieties about going out in public. He was a recognizable face—a known hero in the galactic community. Back when he saved the galaxy from certain destruction he looked a certain way, acted a certain way, and was envisioned by the masses a certain way.

 But he didn’t appear that way anymore; didn’t act that way, either. He didn’t see himself as the ‘Great Commander Shepard’ anymore and so he hid—shied away from the world and pretended he was content in being a recluse. Kaidan understood why he did it, and for the first little while he was just as content to stay away from the outside world and recover with Shepard.

 They both deserved a break.

 But as Shepard’s injuries healed but the cracks in his mind grew larger Kaidan began to worry. Shepard never spoke to anyone outside of Kaidan, and seemed so withdrawn that it was no longer a case of just needing a break from the public eye, but had become something more—something rooted in a fear of the outside world and its unpredictability.

 Truth be told, Kaidan was worried about Shepard’s mental condition. He’d seen the stages of PTSD before—knew that Shepard had slipped into it and wasn’t willing to admit it. And Kaidan didn’t know how to help other than gentle, constant suggestions to perhaps, maybe one day, seek help.

 And to ask him out on dates.

 “I’ve never had lobster before,” Shepard mumbled as he perused the menu.

 Kaidan blinked back the light from the candle in front of him, momentarily distracted by the way it cast shadows across Shepard’s angled features. He was sitting comfortably in his wheelchair, back to the wall and lips pursed as he continued to read through the extensive list of possible dishes.

 “You should try it,” Kaidan said, leaning his forearms on the table.

 “They kinda look like Reapers,” he mumbled, and Kaidan couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or amused.

 “Why not try the lobster tail?” he suggested.

 Shepard nodded and flipped his menu closed. “Fortune favours the bold, eh?”

 Kaidan smiled and nodded. Running his fingers along the soft tablecloth he smoothed out a wrinkle on the otherwise immaculate surface.

 “What are you getting?” Shepard asked. His voice was soft and smooth, free from tremble or its usual gruffness. He sounded… content. That was more than Kaidan could have hoped for.

 “I was thinking the clams,” he said. “I’ve always been a big fan but haven’t had them since… gosh, I can’t remember now.”

 “I’ve never had clams, either,” Shepard said. “I’ve had shrimp, squid, and… shit, I think that’s it. The cheap shit you can get on the streets, deep fried and slathered in sauce to hide the fact it kinda tasted like burnt rubber.”

 Shepard would reveal little bits and pieces about his life growing up on the streets; nothing every serious, just enough to give Kaidan small glimpses into who he was before the Alliance.

 “I assure you the lobster here will not taste like burnt rubber,” Kaidan said.

 He observed Shepard’s hands as they rested on the top of the table, fingers linked together as he inspected the wall of fish on the other side of the restaurant. It had been so long since he’d been on a date Kaidan had almost forgotten how nerve wracking they could be. It was ridiculous—they’d been living with each other for three months and had been technically dating for well over a year. Kaidan knew Shepard—this wasn’t their first rodeo together.

 Except it was in a way.

 Kaidan knew the Shepard from the Presidium, bogged down by the war and so goddamn tired he’d use Kaidan as support when they shared an elevator. And he knew the Shepard in the hospital, hooked up to wires, eyes cloudy with a cocktail of drugs, and jaw locked in so tight from pain that his voice was barely above a tense whisper.

 But he hadn’t had time to familiarize himself with the Shepard sitting across from him.

 Kaidan felt like they were learning the steps of a dance together, both holding their breath as they desperately tried not to step on each other’s toes. It was ridiculous but there it was.

 The waiter returned shortly with their drinks—both waters— and Shepard quirked a brow when he saw Kaidan’s glass.

 “Are you ready to order?” the waiter asked.

 Kaidan could tell he recognized Shepard, and Shepard knew it too.

 Shepard avoided the man’s gaze, and Kaidan could see the tension return to his jaw, hands going to touch the armrests of his wheelchair as if he thought everyone was staring at it. Kaidan was about to intervene, perhaps order first or drop the glass of water on his lap— _anything_ to get the man’s attention away from Shepard—when Shepard looked up at locked eyes with the waiter, as if to dare him to say something.

“I’ll have the lobster tail and a glass of Canadian Dry, please,” Shepard said clearly.

 Shepard’s order was enough to distract Kaidan from the previous awkwardness, and he shot him a look, one Shepard ignored in favour of inspecting his shiny cutlery. Shepard wasn’t supposed to be drinking hard liquor with his medication, and he didn’t even like whiskey—

 Oh.

 “And for you, sir?” the waiter said, snapping Kaidan out of his thoughts.

 “Oh uh, I’ll have the clams, please and thank you.”

 The waiter nodded and took off, menus tucked under his arm.

 “A whiskey?”

 “For you,” Shepard said casually.

 “I don’t want to drink when you can’t, John,” Kaidan replied. He felt guilty enough having the occasional beer with dinner.

 Shepard waved Kaidan off and sat back in his chair. “It’s fine, Kaidan. I owe you a shot of whiskey, anyways. Remember our last date?”

 Kaidan nodded. “Yeah, how could I forget?”

 “So think of this as me finally treating you to that whiskey on our second official date.”

 Kaidan couldn’t help the silly little smile that crept up on to his lips. He knew Shepard remembered their first date, but he didn’t think he remembered the finer details of it. With everything that had gone on Kaidan was surprised he remembered much of _anything_ before the end of the war.

But he hadn’t tried to forget their first date.

 That was… that was something to celebrate.

 “Sounds like a great idea.”

XX

 Dinner had gone remarkably well.

 Shepard only struggled once trying to eat his lobster tail, but remained determined to peel out as much of the meat as he could. He’d gone at it like he was on a mission, his brows furrowed and lips pulled tight into a hard line, expression much like the one he wore in the middle of battle.

 Kaidan kept a watch over him, but Shepard remained loose lipped and relaxed most of the night, only occasionally shying from the gaze of a fellow patron who caught his eye. No one bothered them as they sat in their little corner, their candle burning out only to be quickly replaced. Kaidan ate his clams and sipped his whiskey as he sat across from Shepard, relaxed in a way he hadn’t been for years if he was being honest with himself.

 Shepard seemed to be enjoying himself, and by the time their meals were done and Kaidan had started on his second glass, Shepard was smiling like he wasn’t the battle-scarred and war weary soldier that they both knew he was. He looked carefree and happy, cheeks pink and eyes bright with amusement as he walloped Kaidan with cheesy joke after cheesy joke.

 Kaidan hadn’t laughed like this in a very long time.

 “How did you know I like Canadian Club?” he asked, lips pressed against the rim of his glass. In a bold move he reached out to take Shepard’s hand in his own. They’d remained a safe distance apart all night, both so engrained with military protocol about fraternization and respectable distances that it was hard to break the habit. Out in public they’d always had to remain professional, but now…

 Now Kaidan could hold his partner’s hand in public.

 Shepard tensed only for a second but then twisted his wrist and dragged his fingers along Kaidan’s palm before he grasped his hand, thumb rubbing up and down across the back. They watched the movement for a while, sharing the same moment.

“I remember you had a bottle back on the Normandy SR1,” Shepard explained, voice soft as he continued to pet Kaidan’s hand. “You’d take it out after a successful mission and share it with Ashley and Chakwas… and I remember you were really good at making it disappear whenever Wrex wandered by. Ashley said it was because you were afraid he was going to chug it right in front of you.”

 Kaidan laughed. “You remember that? God, even I can barely remember that.”

 Shepard shrugged, and Kaidan noted the blush on his cheeks as he once again pretended to be interested in the cutlery.

 “Yeah well… I want to remember every detail about you. You keep me distracted… you are my escape. When shit gets too much, I just…” he sighed and looked back up at Kaidan. “You’re my safe place when my own thoughts just get to be too much. You’re who I think if when I need to breathe. So I memorized these things about you; almost obsessed over them. When I was in the hospital I'd think about you instead of focusing on the pain. Whenever I went into surgery I thought about you and your whiskey, and when I came out I’d think about your smile and how long it takes to do your goddamn hair.”

 He smiled and squeezed Shepard’s hand, Shepard returning it with a strength Kaidan had come to take for granted.

 “So when you’re uh… staring out the windows at home, you’re sometimes thinking of me?”

 “I’m always thinking of you.”

 And just like that Kaidan felt like maybe everything could just be as simple as drifting back into Shepard’s orbit. He didn’t have to keep second-guessing himself and their relationship, he didn’t have to question whether or not Shepard was ever going to get better, and he certainly didn’t have to wonder if Shepard ever thought about him. He could just… let it be. Let _them_ be.

 Shepard had some new scars—mental and physical—and Kaidan knew he struggled, but he was still the same guy he fell in love with years ago. Kaidan didn’t have to complicate it any more than it already was. Shepard loved him, and Kaidan loved him back.

 It could be that simple.

 “Well-- I mean-- I think of you, but sometimes when I’m really struggling I think of something else,” Shepard continued, and Kaidan couldn’t help but lean forward as Shepard’s mischievous smirk sunk deep into his gut.

 “Yeah?”

“Mm, yeah. When I’m _really_ struggling, I think about your ass and how firm it is in my hands. It’s what got me through the war, too. I kept thinking about how if the Reapers destroyed the galaxy, your ass would be the biggest casualty. Figuratively and literally.”

 Yeah, Shepard definitely hadn’t changed.


	12. Yoga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and Kaidan go to yoga

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the first oneshot I wrote for Soldier's Heart, and I've waited months to finally share it with you all! This takes place after chapter 11 of Soldier's Heart. It's super simple and fluffy. Hope you enjoy~

“I think you should go in front of me. You know, for emotional support.”

 Kaidan turned his head to the side and looked at Shepard. _Really_ looked at him; from his bare feet with his toes curled in a little, up to his sweat pants and old N7 issued t-shirt that fitted a little snugger every day, right up to his face. He looked nervous, and was doing a bad job at hiding it.

 “You’re worried about yoga?” Kaidan said, shifting his mat under his arm. Shepard had long since dropped his to the ground, the roll half unfurled as he leaned against the wall in the empty loft space.

 Shepard shrugged. “If you hadn’t noticed, I’m not really physically up to the task.”

 “John, it’s just you and I for this session. The instructor knows you’ve got a bad leg and it’s our first time—I doubt she’s going to make us do anything too crazy like upward Krogan and mounted Turian.”

 “Upward Krog—no, never mind.” Shepard shook his head and looked ahead out the large windows along the wall across from them. “It doesn’t matter if we’re the only ones here; _I’m_ the one who cares about what I can and cannot do. Fuck what everyone else thinks—it’s me who matters. Just knowing I can’t do basic shit is… it’s fucking frustrating, is what it is.”

 He clenched his jaw and looked down at his toes. It was an oddly adorable pose he’d struck, but Kaidan refrained from cooing. He didn’t need that now. What he needed was to be reminded of the things that he could do—that he wasn’t some helpless infant.

 “The whole point of this is to help get you to that point where you _can_ do everything you think you should be able to do,” Kaidan explained. Turning, he leaned his shoulder against the wall and reached out to tug at the hem of Shepard’s shirt, drawing his attention back to him. “C’mon, it’ll be fun. Think of it as… as couples’ bonding. Besides, you’ve always been limber—I’ll bet you’ll be better at this than I am.”

 Shepard sighed and knocked his head back against the wall. Closing his eyes he swallowed, Kaidan watching his Adam’s apple bob. Finally, he opened his eyes and looked back at Kaidan. “This is important to you, isn’t it?”

 “If it’ll help you in the long run… then yeah, yeah it is. Just try it?”

 Shepard nodded and pushed himself off the wall. “Alright—I’ll do it for you. But you should really set up in front of me.”

 Kaidan smirked. “Yeah? Wont that be a little distracting?”

 “I’m a multitasker, K,” Shepard said, winking.

XX

 “You’re going to have to go lower than that, sir.”

 Shepard tried not to jump as his instructor’s hand slid down his back and pressed against his tailbone, bending his knee further than it wanted to go. Asari certainly had no qualms about touching, it seemed. Shepard only knew her for half a session and she was already getting entirely too personally with him. And it wasn’t that she was touching his ass—it was that she had her hand on him period.

 “I think I got it,” he grunted out, bending the way she wanted him to but not being very happy about it.

 Next to him Kaidan was replicating the pose perfectly, a serene, almost meditative expression on his face.

_At least he’s happy._

 “How you doin’?” Kaidan asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper in the large space.

 Incense was burning in the corner and a gentle, subdued melody was playing over the speakers up above. Purple and pink curtains had been drawn over the windows, cocooning them in some tranquil bubble in the middle of the city.

 It was horrifying.

 “I’m good,” Shepard replied. _Remember: do it for him._

 “Alright; please relax and go into your resting pose,” their instructor said, her tone still eerily calm and even. Shepard did as she asked, feeling the ache in his knee as he did so. It was supposed to be a resting pose, but Shepard felt anything but rested.

 They stayed like that for a few seconds, Shepard hearing the soft patter of the asari’s bare feet as she walked back up to the front of the room.

 “Now stand and I will show you your next pose,” she said.

 Standing slowly, Shepard tried not to wheeze in pain. Instead he straightened his back and parted his feet, imitating the pose he took during inspection when he was still with the Alliance. It made his leg hurt, but it made _him_ feel better.

 Their instructor once again showed them another pose, this one resulting in their asses in the air and their legs spread out behind them.

 Shepard really wished Kaidan had agreed to stand in front of him for the session once he saw what they had to do. Alas, Kaidan pointed out how bizarre it would have been to have them anywhere but side by side. Shepard didn’t really care, but Kaidan did. And what Kaidan wanted, Shepard did.

 Shepard watched Kaidan gracefully ease into the position, slightly envious of the way his body just worked like it should, every movement smooth and without the grimacing and grunting that accompanied anything he did. Biting back the swell of jealousy, Shepard replicated the position best he could, once again holding back the noise that tried to push past his lips.

 “No—you’re feet are all wrong,” the instructor said. She crouched down beside him and Shepard hung his head between his arms, looking at what she was doing, his vision upside down. She wrapped her delicate fingers around his ankle and shifted his foot to the side.

 Well that was…

_Oh._

_Oh wow._

 That felt better. Much better. That felt…

 “Holy fuck,” Shepard whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

 The spasms in his leg that he experienced at a pretty much constant rate anytime he was standing was gone. Instead all he felt was a dull ache—nothing he couldn’t manage. In fact, he felt almost better than when he was lying down. With his leg stretched out like this, all of the deep tissue knots were relaxing, the muscles pulling themselves apart. It hurt, but it didn’t hurt as much.

 It was manageable for the first time in what felt like forever.

 Maybe this wasn’t _so_ bad.

XX

 Shepard’s bedtime ritual was frustrating to watch for Kaidan.

 Most of the time it took a good hour or so for Shepard to actually come into the bedroom, his mind still busy working on whatever it was that was eating away at him that night. It was usually just high anxiety about falling asleep that kept him away from the bedroom, Shepard still struggling to find peace with sinking off into the abyss for a few hours. Kaidan knew it was difficult and was sympathetic, but it hurt to watch Shepard work himself up into an anxious bundle of nerves at the prospect of simply going to bed.

 Bedtime for most was a time to relax and decompress—to shrug off the stresses of the day and enjoy a quiet moment of relaxation with your partner. For Shepard, nighttime rituals involved pacing, staring out windows, fiddling with pens and other bits and bobs he could twirl in his hands, and staring up at the ceiling in the dark while Kaidan slowly drifted off.

 It seemed no matter what Kaidan did—whether it be cuddle him, talk to him, or suck him off right before they went to bed—Shepard would spend most of the night awake, highly alert, and rolling around like a bouncy ball in zero gravity.

 But today after yoga, things were different. Shepard came back home relaxed and limp like a noodle, and spent the rest of the evening in much the same state, his legs sprawled out in front of him as he worked on one of his new knitting projects, concentration on his features but a laziness in the way he held his shoulders.

 Kaidan hadn’t seen him look that relaxed in months. Years, even.

 And it lasted all the way up to their bedtime. Kaidan had work the next day and prepared for bed early, but when he came out of the bathroom he found Shepard on their bed, already in his pajamas, curled up with Cosmo lying beside him, fingers idly scratching his dog’s exposed belly.

 “Hey,” Shepard mumbled when Kaidan walked in, a towel around his waist and hair still a wet, tousled mess. His eyes wandered a moment, a lazy grin on his lips, before his head sunk further in his pillow.

 “Hey yourself,” Kaidan said, returning the smile. Shepard looked incredible right now, eyes heavy lidded and anxiety free, the cloud of stress that usually swarmed around him all but gone. Cosmo looked relaxed too, already asleep on Kaidan’s side of the bed.

 If Cosmo was relaxed, Shepard must have truly been relaxed, too.

 “He’s on my side of the bed,” Kaidan said. Opening up his dresser, he pulled out a pair of boxers and a soft t-shirt.

 “Sorry,” Shepard mumbled. Yawning, he dragged Cosmo a little closer in, cuddling him like he was a giant teddy bear. “I can shoo him off if you’d like.”

 Kaidan wasn’t normally a fan of Cosmo up on the bed, but when Shepard looked so happy…

  _Do it for him._

  “Nah, it’s fine,” Kaidan replied. Dropping his towel, he dressed before going back into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Returning, he flicked the lights off and approached Shepard’s side of the bed. “Scoot over. If I’m going to be usurped by a dog then you can share your side with me.”

 Shepard did as asked. Slipping in behind him Kaidan wrapped his arms around Shepard’s waist. Nuzzling the back of his neck, he pushed his hand under and up Shepard’s shirt to rest on his bare stomach.

 “I gotta admit… today wasn’t so bad,” Shepard said, voice distant as he dozed in Kaidan’s arms.

 “Yeah?” Kaidan couldn’t help but smile—not out of smugness but because he was just so damn happy Shepard was feeling _good_.

 “Yeah.” Shepard moved his hips back enough so that they were pressed tight together—chest to back and ass to groin.

 Giving Shepard a good squeeze, Kaidan kissed his shoulder. “I’m glad it was a good day.”

 “It was… it was a very good day.”

 Any day Shepard dubbed a good day, was a day Kaidan marked on the calendar.

 He’d been having more and more of them as of late, his therapy over the last year helping him regain that sense of excitement about life. His outlook was generally more positive, and any tumbles he took were ones that could be fixed, both knowing what to do should Shepard revert back to his negative thought pattern. Kaidan just hoped these yoga sessions would result in more sleepy, relaxed, nightmare free nights for them, and become another source of positive reinforcement for Shepard.

 Kaidan would gladly go again and again—any time Shepard wanted to—if it meant Shepard had more and more good days.

 Even if it meant he’d lose his space on the bed to Cosmo.


End file.
